The Guardian
by kwater
Summary: Dean, Sam and Catherine learn just what it will take for them to survive the coming war. - 4th story in the Coming War Series
1. Chapter 1

Sam felt a hand brush over his shoulder and he lifted his head wearily. As he did he ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his hand over his eyes. His eyes were full of grit, and his throat felt as if he had been sucking down sand. Pushing himself erect Sam swallowed, and blearily focused on Dean who stood next to him.

Sam noticed that his brother looked like Sam felt. Although, Dean had made it out of the fight, with the demon, without a scratch he still looked like crap.

"You look like crap, man," Sam said, as he sat back on the plastic chair. He looked down at the hand that was clasped in his own and felt a tug on his heart.

The hand was small though capable; normally the hand soothed away the brother's hurts and disposed of evil in the same efficient way. Now though, there was nothing familiar left to it. Three of the fingers were splinted together and a few fingernails had been ripped away entirely. An IV, ran into the back of it and the skin tone held a slight yellow tinge to it.

Sam gently set it back on the hospital bed and fought back a wave of sadness. Taking a few deep breaths Sam calmed himself before returning his eyes to his brother. Dean was dealing with his own problems he didn't need to be faced with Sam's pain as well.

"Go home Sam," Sam heard Dean's voice but chose to ignore his words. It had only been about ten hours since the brother's world had come crashing down. Only ten hours since they had watched Catherine die and come back to life. No, he wasn't ready to leave her yet, though the doctors claimed she'd made a marked improvement.

"Sammy listen, Bobby's dead on his feet. Take the truck and find a hotel, that way you can spell me later and I can get some sleep." Sam finally settled his gaze on Dean taking, in just how bad his older brother looked. Dean was pale and drawn, dark shadows had settled under his bloodshot eyes. He'd aged years since this had begun. Sam knew that Dean was worried about him, but he thought that maybe Dean should be more worried about himself. Uncomfortable as it had been at least Sam had napped a bit. Dean looked as if he was afraid to ever close his eyes again.

Sam was ready with a reply, when Dean spoke once again, "Please, Sam; I need to be alone with her. Please." Sam nodded and in a moment was gathering his jacket. Sam stood and watched as Dean took the plastic chair. Sam hesitated once more, reluctant to leave the two most important people in his life. Finally, he opened the door and walked into the hall. Sam couldn't remember the last time he'd heard Dean plead with him.

As he stretched, trying to loosen the injured muscles that had stiffened during his sleep, he looked around the clinic. His glance fell across a figure spread out in the waiting room, spanning two chairs. Sam stifled a laugh and approached the hunter, careful to call out to him first. Sam knew you didn't simply walk up unannounced on a hunter as experienced as Bobby Singer. The younger man leaned in and touched Bobby's shoulder.

Bobby came awake at once. Swiftly standing, he scanned Sam's face for any sign that something was wrong, instead all he saw was exhaustion. Nodding, Bobby said, "Let's go, Sam, we'll get some sleep and then come back and get Dean out." Clapping a hand on Sam's shoulder Bobby spared a glance at the door, Sam had come from.

Sam returned the gesture, and said, "She's sleeping; the doctor was in about a half-hour ago and said she showed 'marked improvement' whatever that means." Sam followed Bobby out into the parking lot. As the bright sunshine of the afternoon struck Sam's eyes, he found himself wondering for the first time, how long they had been here. Sam put the question to Bobby and then grinned in surprise. Bobby was climbing behind the wheel of Cat's beloved Wagoneer.

Bobby gave Sam a guilty look, "I've been driving it lately. Seemed a waste to leave it at the yard, you know what a store that girl sets by this old thing." Bobby pulled out onto the street and concentrated on finding a nearby motel. "I'll be honest; I'm not sure how long Katie's been out of it. I'm thinking it's been about two days, give or take."

As Sam and Bobby drove, Sam could see why Bobby had chosen to drive the Wagoneer. Every inch screamed out that it belonged to Catherine. A Saint Christopher's medal hung from the rearview and a line of burned C.D's lined the visor. Best of all thought Sam, it still smelled like Catherine a light citrusy smell that came from the coconut-lime soap she used.

Sam felt himself drifting off; he was surprised when Bobby tapped him on the shoulder ordering him out of the car. Sam got out stiffly and headed for the open door that Bobby steered him toward.

Sam didn't even glance at the room he just made his way to the far bed, and lay. Stretching he felt himself hovering on the edge of sleep, when Bobby called him back.

"Sam, come on, Son, you need to a least pull off those boats, you call shoes." Sam could feel a tugging on his feet. He quickly kicked off his shoes and stripped off his coat, and then with a groan he struggled under the covers and was asleep in moments.

Bobby moved about the room, setting the protection charms and salting the windows and doors. He glanced periodically at the young man sleeping like the dead. Bobby, finally content that they were as safe as they could be, pulled the heavy drapes closed and lay down on his own bed. As he waited for sleep to claim him, his thoughts drifted toward all that had happened.

His heart ached with the thought that Sam and Catherine were now both marked by the demon. Oh, he knew deep down that they had always been in the line of fire, but now. Now there was no hiding from it. They were both beacons, drawing the son of a bitch toward them. Bobby had yet to see Catherine's newest power but he'd heard enough from the boys to know that she now posed a serious threat to the demon. In Bobby's eyes that simply meant she would be an even greater target.

Bobby rolled to his side and watched as Sam slept. He'd promised himself long ago, that he would protect Catherine to the best of his ability. She'd come to him as a broken teenager. She'd been untrusting and full of anger, with good reason after the joke that had been her childhood.

She'd turned into a kind and generous woman, that held all others before herself. Bobby found himself hoping desperately that maybe this time it would be different. Maybe he'd taught her enough that she would stand a chance. That she could somehow survive the coming war.

As Bobby sank into sleep his mind began turning ideas, trying over and over again to find a way to keep both Catherine and the Winchesters alive. Himself, he gave no thought to. He'd lived a hard life, had loved once and well and if he was to die tomorrow he only asked that it be worth it.

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Dean watched his brother stumble slightly out of the room and he breathed a sigh of relief. Sam had been running on fumes and Dean was worried. He didn't like having to plead with Sam to go, but he knew his brother well enough to know that nothing else would have worked on Sam's stubborn streak.

Dean turned slowly and took in the wasted figure on the bed. He found himself looking at only one aspect of Catherine at a time. To take in all her injuries at once was enough to make him sick. He focused on her bruised and battered face, her eyes practically swollen shut, her nose that was tapped into place. And the worst the black bruise that started at the corner of her jaw and radiated upwards towards her cheek. Her split lip was swollen and kept bleeding at her slightest movement. He leaned forward and brushed her hair back from her face, careful to avoid the stitches that ran along her hairline.

His eyes dropped of their own volition, taking in the bruising around her throat and her arm bound across her chest. She'd broken her collar bone and the footprint left by the boot that had done it was visible at the neck of her gown. Dean swallowed and closed his eyes.

He heard a low squeak as the door to Cat's room was opened. Turning quickly he sent a questioning glare toward the large woman that entered. He'd had a few dust ups with Nurse Post over the last day or so. He braced himself for another, he was sure she was here to throw him out and he had no intention of leaving. Instead the nurse surprised him by opening the door wide and waving in an orderly wheeling a fold up cot. Dean raised a brow in question.

Caroline took in the young man that sat so still by his wife's bed. She felt a tug on her heart as she remembered just how close the young woman had come to dying. It was only by sheer force of will that she'd survived at all. And though Caroline was no expert she knew that it had been this man's will that had called his wife back. She smiled gently, and said, "I've realized that I'm not going to get you out of here, so I figured I'd at least ensure that you don't become a patient yourself." Caroline shuddered theatrically, and said, "I can only imagine what you'd be like then."

Dean smiled wearily, and said, "I've driven many a nurse to early retirement."

Caroline nodded and handed Dean a set of scrubs she'd brought. "Try and get some sleep, one of us will be in and out every half hour to monitor her vitals."

Dean held up the standard green pants and shirt she'd give him. "What no gown, this is a perfect chance for revenge, leaving me with my backside hanging out."

Caroline grinned and Dean saw a twinkle in her eye. "Oh, son if I were to do that, this ward would go to hell in a hand basket. My nurses' are already fighting over who gets to come in here. I don't need the pandemonium you'd cause if they caught you walking bare assed down the hall."

Dan grinned and nodded thanks to the kind nurse. Once she'd left the room he'd quickly stripped off his clothes, wrinkling his nose at the smell and dressed in the clean scrubs. Finally, he turned off all but the night light and lay down on the hard cot inches from Catherine. He lay on his side and studied the woman he'd fallen in love with. Looking past the bruises that covered her he focused on just what she had given him over the past year.

She'd given Dean her unfailing love and loyalty, she'd put herself on the line over and over again, protecting both himself and Sam. And most of all she'd given him and Sam a sense of home again, of family. Dean lay in the darkness and felt fear course through him. He was the only thing standing between Sam and Catherine's fate. And every day he woke, he was scared that he wouldn't be enough. Enough to keep them from the darkness, he'd almost failed with Catherine and she'd nearly paid the price.

Dean vowed that he would never again choose between Sam and Catherine. No, from this point on where one went, they all went, even if it was into hell itself. Dean finally allowed himself to fall asleep, never noticing the tears that leaked from his tired eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Four days later found Bobby entering Catherine's hospital room and announcing his intention to head back home. "Now that Katie's conscience, I'm going to head home and get ready for you all. I'm sure that she won't stand for being here long, and I want to check my contacts, see if I can get a handle on what's going on."

Catherine had lain pale and drawn, her face rivaling the hospital sheets for whiteness. Her eyes had opened slightly and she'd managed a half grin. The movement though had caused her lip to split open once more, Dean leaned over and gently wiped away the blood. Catherine had been awake more and more for the last two days. She still didn't speak, the doctors had explained that the pain in her throat was a combination of being strangled and the intubation tube she'd had in her throat.

Catherine wiggled a finger slightly and waited until Bobby had taken her hand. She licked her lips, and said in a raspy, broken voice, "Take care. Demon find you."

Bobby had nodded and gently pressed a kiss to her forehead, he whispered, "Oh, I'm too wiley to get caught. Take care of yourself and your boys, Katie, girl, and I'll see you soon."

Bobby started to straighten and felt Catherine pull him back with a surprisingly firm hold. "Love you, Bobby. I don't say it enough." She gave him a small sad smile and released his hand.

Bobby caught Catherine's eye, and said in a gravely voice, "I know, Kid, I know."

Bobby could feel Catherine's eyes on his back as he headed out the door. He turned toward Sam and Dean who had followed, and said, "Take care."

The bothers nodded, and Dean said, "We will, Bobby, we'll make sure she's safe."

Bobby smiled at Dean's words, typical of the elder Winchester to assume that Bobby was ordering him to watch over Catherine. Shaking his head Bobby reached out and placed a hand on Dean's shoulder. "No, Dean, I meant take care of yourselves. You boys have become like family to me, and not just because of Catherine. I want all three of you to make it out of this mess alive. So, I say again, take care of each other. That Demon's going to be pissed and it's going to come looking for revenge. I want you out of here as soon as she's able to travel. I'm gonna go over the house and make sure we're ready for whatever comes." Bobby winked and walked away.

"I can't imagine how much more he could do," Sam said, with a small grin. "The place's like a fortress already."

Dean returned Sam's smile and raised a brow. "That's Bobby for you, I'm just glad he's on our side."

Sam watched the elder hunter disappear through the double doors, with a wistful smile on his face. He'd come to think of Bobby as family in the past months and watching him leave now left Sam with a void in his heart. Like his Dad, Bobby was someone to be counted on, an 'adult' with a lifetime's experience, it made Sam feel better just knowing he was around. Sighing he turned back toward Catherine forcing a smile he didn't feel.

As he did he noted the genuine smile on Dean's face as he joked quietly with Catherine. The smile caused Sam to grin in earnest, and helped to dissipate the sadness Bobby's leaving had caused.

Later in the afternoon, Nurse Post entered the room. During their vigil the boys had met most of the nurses that worked in the ward. As the others came and went, it seemed to the boys that Nurse Post was always there.

Today, she moved toward Catherine quickly checking her vitals. After a moment she turned to the boys, and said, "Guys, I need you to clear out a bit. Why don't you step across the street to Johnny's and get your girl here a milkshake. It'll help the soreness in her throat."

Dean's brow dropped and he started to say no, when he noticed Cat's hand on his arm. He glanced at her and she nodded, speaking softly she rasped "Please, Dean, chocolate." Dean wavered, he wanted nothing more than a break from the hospital room, but he also didn't want to leave Cat alone.

Dean nodded to Sam, and said, "Sam, can run, I'll stay here."

Caroline, looked at the young girl that lay in bed and apologized with her eyes, turning toward the overprotective men, she said clearly, "I'm going to check her catheter. Now I don't care where you go, but you can't stay here."

Before she'd even finished Sam had left the room with a promise to bring back a shake. Dean reluctantly followed as Catherine rolled her eyes at him in exasperation.

Nurse Post moved about the room, straightening the bedside table, finally satisfied, she said, "I'm sorry, but I needed them out. How are you doing, Honey?" The kindly woman gently brushed the hair from Cat's face, checking the incision on her forehead.

Catherine nodded weakly and made a so-so gesture with her hand. Caroline nodded. "Well, that's the best we can hope for. You were really worked over." At the young girls questioning glance Caroline continued "Your young men need to go home. They're tired and worn out. Now I've tried everything, but they won't budge. Your husband can't keep sleeping in here, he needs to truly rest. I just thought that maybe you might be able to convince him."

Catherine wet her lips, and said, "I'll try, no promises. When can I go home?"

Caroline straightened, and said, "It's going to be a while yet, we still have you on antibiotics and fluids, your jaw is still too sore to eat properly and you have to give your kidneys a break. The blood we're seeing in your urine is not good. You need time to heal."

Caroline watched in bemusement, the stubborn look that came over her young charge's face. She ignored it with a smile and left the room promising to be back later.

Catherine lay alone for the first time in a while. She had hoped to be gone in a day or so, but it didn't seem likely. She'd never liked institutions of any kind and had managed to avoid all but the emergency room, for a while now. As much as she longed to return to Bobby's she also knew she was as useless as a babe right now. At least here in this building, that had once been a church she was somewhat safe.

Dean returned alone to the hospital, Sam opting to head back to the hotel and grab a shower. As Dean approached the door to her room, Candy, a small blond nurse that had been helping to care for Catherine, approached Dean. Dean liked the young girl for her no-nonsense ways, she was direct and forthright and seemed to genuinely care about Catherine and the Winchesters.

"Hey, Mister Chase, I was wondering where you'd gotten off to." The blonde's eyes lit up "Are those shakes from Johnny's, ohhhhh. I just love the chocolate ones. You're an evil man for not taking orders; we nurses live for those shakes," Candy joked with Dean.

Dean returned her smile. "I didn't realize, I promise to pick up a couple extras, tomorrow." Dean opened the door to Catherine's room, only to feel a hand on his shoulder. Turning he found Candy, leaning close to him. She seemed to be struggling to say something. Dean smiled trying to put the young woman at ease. "What's going on, Candy." At the look on Candy's face Dean felt a fissure of unease.

"It's nothing I just wanted to say, how much I admire you. Cathy's a very lucky woman." Candy stared at Dean, her bottom lip caught between her lips and her hand still on his shoulder.

Dean moved back into Catherine's room a bit, and said, "She hates to be called Cathy, and I'm the lucky one." With those words he firmly shut the door hoping that Candy would get the hint. He'd flirted harmlessly with some of the older nurses but had been careful to steer clear of anyone who might take him up on it. Dean shrugged and reminded himself to steer clear of Candy.

Turning toward the bed he caught a glimpse of Catherine's staring eyes. Smiling Dean moved to the bed, Candy already forgotten. He was glad to see that Catherine had managed to stay awake.

Catherine had watched the exchange, but had been unable to hear the nurse's words. Of all the people in the ward that had gone freely in and out of Catherine's room, Candy had been the one Catherine couldn't stand. Catherine found the girl to be shallow and vane, not to mention she found any excuse to brush up against the Winchesters. Catherine smiled inwardly at the thought of what a girl like Candy would do if presented with the Winchesters true personalities. Probably run screaming, thought Catherine.

As Dean handed her the shake she debated if it was worth asking what the blonde had wanted. Taking her first careful sip of the shake, Catherine decided she just didn't care. Dean was a grown man and more than capable of shooting down would be stalkers.

Catherine sat in silence, Dean leaning against her head board. His long legs stretched out beside her. She closed her eyes as she sipped slowly just enjoying being near him. Finally, she knew she could no longer remain awake. "Dean, take this." Catherine said, handing him her shake.

As Dean disposed of the Styrofoam cup she took a breath and continued, "Go home, Dean. Sleep, Eat, maybe shower." Catherine joked wrinkling her nose. "You and Sam stay at the hotel tonight. I'm good." Catherine kept her words short and sweet; her throat ached even though it was slightly numbed by the ice-cream.

Dean shook his head. "Nope, I can sleep here just as easy. I don't want to leave you here alone."

Catherine closed her eyes and prayed for a little more strength. Forcing the words, she said, "Gotta stay for a while. You can't keep it up. You and Sam, need food and sleep." Catherine raised a weak hand, and said, "Go."

Dean moved towards the bed, saying "Stop talking, Catherine, I know it hurts."

Catherine shrugged slightly; wincing at the pull on her shoulder "Won't stop till you leave. I can let you know if I need you," Catherine said, referring to her power.

Again Dean shook his head. "It's been out of whack lately, Kiddo, I'll stay a couple more nights just till you're stronger." Dean wasn't willing to admit, he was afraid of losing her. Afraid to admit that he'd left her before and she'd died because of it.

As if reading his mind, Catherine replied, "Not your fault, not going to happen. Go." Catherine struggled to sit up hoping to convince Dean she was alright. Instead, she succumbed to a coughing fit. The pain that lanced through her, as the cough racked her body was unbearable. Finally, as Dean held her offering her broken ribs some support she managed to calm herself.

Watching Catherine get over excited was enough to make Dean give in. He knew that she thought she was acting in his best interests and she would do whatever was necessary to get him to leave. Dean caved, in light of her stubbornness he said "Alright, I'll head out in an hour. Take Sam to dinner and be back in the morning."

Catherine lay in his arms and allowed herself to drift to sleep. Content that Dean would do as he promised she slept soundly. Never noticing when Dean slipped from her side.

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Three nights later, Dean awoke to Sammy in full blown vision mode. Dean scrambled from his bed moving to Sam's side, he eased an arm around his brother's shoulder. Dean knew there wasn't much that he could offer in the way of help, so he just waited with Sammy until the vision released him. Speaking in a low voice, Dean encouraged Sam to try and relax.

Sam heard Dean's low voice and felt a jolt of fear instead comfort. Dean was here in the room, not by Catherine's side. Sam pushed away from Dean, standing by the bed, he reached for his clothes, trying to remain standing as a wave of dizziness hit him.

Dean stared up at Sammy, taking in the look of fear in his baby brother's face. "What is it, Sam?" Dean asked, hoping that Sam wasn't about to tell him that they needed to leave town.

Sam's one word caused Dean to lurch toward his own clothes dragging them on as he reached for his keys.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean drove like a bat out of hell; looking at his watch he saw that it was four o'clock in the morning. Running every stop sign and red light in town, he waited for Sam to explain what he had seen. Finally, Sam began speaking.

"I don't get it Dean, I don't think it was a vision. Intead I seemed to be in Catherine's dream, at first all I saw was the hospital bed. She seemed to be sleeping peacefully, then all the sudden I was thrown into a room. And you lay on the floor dead. Then the image changed and I was looking at myself. Over and over again, we lay dead; at one point it was me, you and Bobby. Then I heard a voice saying "they're dead, they're dead." I looked over my shoulder and Catherine was in her hospital gown in the corner, crying. I couldn't reach her, couldn't see anything else." Sam rubbed the back of his neck startled that they were already reaching the hospital.

After the past couple days, the boys had fallen into a kind of rhythm. They would visit with Catherine first thing in the morning and then take shifts all afternoon. Finally in the evenings they would say goodnight and leave for the hotel for the night. Catherine had been progressively getting better though she was still in no shape to travel.

Dean and Sam bolted from the car and using the emergency room exit they quickly made their way up the hall toward Catherine's room. Everyone had become so used to their comings and goings that no one questioned their right to be there.

Finally, arriving at Catherine's room Dean opened the door and walked in. In the darkness he didn't notice anything different. It was only as he turned on the bedside light that he noticed anything wrong. Catherine hadn't awoken; Dean knew what a light sleeper she was. In fact the doctor had agreed to have the nurses only take her vitals twice at night because they kept waking her up. Dean leaned over her and gently touched her face. Calling her name softly, he glanced up and into Sam's worried face.

Sam moved around to the foot of Cat's bed, and picked up the chart that hung there. Glancing at it his brows rose in surprise. "Dean, it says she had a violent outburst this evening and they had to restrain her and sedate her."

Without pause Dean grabbed the chart and strode from the room. Checking the desk he noted only Candy was present. "Where's Nurse Post? I need to talk to her."

Candy stood. and said, "I'm sorry, Mister Chase, she's off duty. I'm the senior nurse on duty tonight." Candy moved around the desk and approached Dean.

Before she could get close to the volatile hunter, Sam stepped in, and said, "What happened to Catherine tonight? It says she was sedated, we made it quit clear that she's never to be sedated." Catherine herself had pleaded with the Winchesters; she hadn't wanted to risk loosing control. She was terrified of what she might do if drugged.

Candy smiled icily at Sam's accusing tone, and said, "There was no choice; the episode began at one o'clock. Nurse McHugh went in to take her vitals and found her removing her IV. She became distraught, screaming nonsense. We finally resorted to strapping her down, but unfortunately the straps kept coming loose. We had no choice in the matter. Even in her weakened state she managed to knock down an orderly. She simply isn't healed enough to be allowed to damage herself that way."

Dean growled something nasty at the nurse and stalked back toward Catherine's room. Sam glared at the nurse in front of him, and asked, "What set her off, we were here earlier and she seemed fine. Why now, why all of the sudden? And why weren't we contacted."

Candy raised a brow and shrugged. "Everything was normal this evening. I have no idea what set her off. After we sedated her she became compliant. I saw no need to contact you."

Sam turned and walked away. As he entered Catherine's room he moved to her side. Dean sat on her bed, leaning against the headboard; he was gently running his fingers through her hair. He looked up at Sam with anger in his eyes, nodding toward where Catherine's hands were being held down with restraints. Sam quickly bent over and released the unconscious girl's wrists. He winced when he took in the backs of her hands. The numerous new bruises testified to how many times they'd tried to find a new vein, while reinserting her IV.

Sam drew a deep breath and settled into the plastic chair, beside the bed. The brothers remained that way until the shift change at five o'clock. It was then that a nurse opened the door to do her rounds and found them sitting there. She was quickly sent on her way, by a few choice words from Sam. Dean remained quiet, simply looking at the nurse.

As expected within moments Nurse Post entered the room, she moved soundlessly toward the bed and picked up Catherine's chart. Finally, she took a deep breath and faced the men that were hovering over Catherine's unconscious form.

"Dean, Sam, I apologize. I should have been called in at the first sign of trouble, but the night nurse felt she could handle it. That's no excuse I know. I know how you felt about the sedation, and I would never have okayed it. I would have contacted you immediately," Caroline apologized.

"Why," Dean asked.

Caroline sighed, and said, "I'm not sure, Catherine's been fine. Recovering nicely, sleeping well. Sometimes after a prolong hospital stay patients become depressed, but she showed none of the usual signs. I'm not sure but I think it may have been in reaction to something one of my nurses said to her. Catherine has hinted to me before that she didn't want this woman near her and I have accommodated her wish. But tonight we were short handed and no one else was available." Caroline stood, and waited for the inevitable question.

"Which one?" asked Sam.

"Nurse Snyder," Caroline replied.

Dean was surprised. "Candy?"

Caroline almost rolled her eyes. Typical male, Caroline herself could hardly stand the petite blond. The only reason she was still on staff was because the director of the hospital liked looking at the vivacious blond. "Yes, I was sure it was just a clash of personalities, but maybe it was enough to set Catherine off."

Dean nodded, and said with a weary grin, "Catherine's strong willed, she likes things done her way."

Sam snorted in understatement. "Catherine's strong willed, that's like saying the sun is hot."

Dean suddenly became serious again. "You need to make sure it doesn't happen again. I won't have her being sedated against her will, and you won't be able to restrain her." At the senior nurses nod, Dean relaxed a little and sat back concentrating once again on trying to offer peace to Catherine in her drugged state.

Sam found himself staring out the hospital room window. It wasn't that the view was so fascinating, after all Cat had managed to nab a room with a view of the dumpster. No it was just he couldn't stand looking at her, every time he did he felt as if he was trapped in her nightmare again. He knew that it was just memories left over from his dream but that didn't make him feel better. It didn't stop how he felt as he heard her sobbing in his mind.

Dean still sat by her bed, eyes watching with an unflinching stare. Sam knew the guilt that Dean must be feeling, after all Sam felt a sizeable amount himself. "At least now she'll know that she won't go all Carrie if she's knocked out," Sam said, wincing at the lame attempt at conversation. It's just Dean hadn't said anything in over and hour and it was wearing on Sam's nerves.

Dean nodded and with a ghost of a smile, he said, "Yeah, could have been worse I suppose. The hospital could have been leveled when we got here. Like the building in Vegas."

Dean glanced down; noticing that Catherine's breathing had changed. Her head moved slightly in negation and she winced. Finally, her eyes fluttered open and then closed. Dean took her hand once again, and said, "Open your eyes, Katie." He called to her in a rough voice.

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Catherine could hear Dean's speaking to her but she couldn't force herself to respond. She wasn't sure what was wrong, she always woke quickly and clearheaded. Now though she couldn't seem to swim up from the confusion of her thoughts. She heard Dean, but that didn't seem right. Dean was dead, and Catherine had watched it happen.

No, the thought surged through her mind, Dean couldn't have been dead. Then another image flashed through her mind and she did cry out. The vision of Sammy lying in a bloody pile, the light snuffed out of his beautiful green eyes.

Again, and again images bombarded the young girl, until finally she heard the voice. The voice that lived in her dreams, the voice that brought her hope and love. Catherine fought her way to the voice, and forced her eyes open. This time her eyes were able to focus and she looked into a pair of beautiful hazel eyes, eyes that she looked into a thousand times before, eyes that were clear and very much alive. "Dean?" Catherine croaked still feeling the ever present soreness in her throat.

"Hey, welcome back to the land of the living, Katie." Dean looked deeply into Catherine's eyes and wanted to flinch, gone was the strong, proud girl he'd fallen in love with. In her place lay a scared shell of a woman. "Sam and I are right here, Katie, you were dreaming." As Dean watched he could see Catherine struggle to pull her thoughts together. "We're both fine, it was just a dream."

Sam stood on the far side of Catherine, pale and silent. As she'd struggled to throw off the drugs that had been terrorizing her she'd mumbled the words from Sam's vision "they're dead". Sam reached out and placed a hand on Catherine's arm, leaning forward so he was in her line of vision. "It's okay, Cat, we're here."

Catherine drew a shallow breath and tried to clear her vision again. "What happened?" she asked, as she tried to figure out what had happened.

Dean leaned back a bit and shared a glance with Sam. Sam nodded, and said, "We don't really know, Cat. We were told that you, um, had a panic attack last night. The staff tried to strap you down, but you kept getting free. They... Um... finally drugged you." Sam finished with a wince knowing the outburst that would follow.

Catherine tried to remember but quickly stopped, every time she tried to focus all she could remember was the vivid dreams of the deaths of those she loved. Catherine didn't understand yesterday, she'd felt better, almost, human in fact. She'd gotten up several times with the boys help and had even managed to sit in the chair by the window. Not ready by any means to check herself out, but still better.

Sam clenched his jaw, as the weak voice asked, "Did I hurt anyone?" Sam looked at his brother and noticed the concern that showed on Dean's voice. This wasn't like Catherine, she should have been tearing them a new one, over having let this happen. Not weakly accepting it.

Dean cleared his throat, and said, "No, Cat, you didn't hurt anyone. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left you." Dean moved toward the water pitcher that sat by the bed and poured a glass for Catherine. As he helped her sit up, he was shocked by how frail she seemed compared to yesterday.

Catherine took a sip of the water, and closed her eyes. She just wanted to sleep, without the nightmares, she thought, as she felt sleep steal over her once more.

Dean and Sam watched as she drifted back to sleep. Dean noticed that she still seemed restless, but he left her be, knowing that she needed to rest. "Sam, I don't get it yesterday she was on the mend and today she looks as if..." Dean broke off not able to continue.

"I don't know, Dean, but I think we ought to question that nurse again." Sam moved back toward the window, thoughts flying trying to reason what had happened.

Dean walked to Sam and stood shoulder to shoulder staring out into the bright morning light. "We checked them all out, Sam, not to mention the protection charms Bobby placed on the hospital and the room itself. Nothing should be able to touch her here."

Sam nodded "I know, Dean, hell, I helped Bobby with most of it. But I mean, it's got to be something supernatural right. We know what's after her, I mean, what else could it be?" Sam stood for a moment more, and then said, "I'm going to go rustle us up something to eat. Watch over her." Sam clapped Dean on the back and headed out the door.

Sam entered the hallway and paused for a moment, he wanted coffee first and foremost. He decided to grab a cup for him and Dean in the nurse's lounge before leaving the clinic for breakfast. As he stood at the coffee machine filling two cups a voice called out softly.

"Mr. Chase, Sam, can I talk to you for a moment." Sam turned to face Nurse Post. Sam hid a swift smile at the name she'd called him. The day they'd brought Cat here, Sam had given the administrator Cat's real name. He'd felt fairly safe doing it, Cat had no record and no one was looking for her. But then, as the woman had said that only family could stay with her, Dean had named himself Cat's husband. Sam not wanting to find himself shut out had taken the name Chase also. Bobby had later secured them ID's to match their chosen identities.

"How, can I help you?" Sam asked, the formidable nurse as she moved toward him.

"Well, it's just that I find myself upset by your sister-in-law's outburst last night. Even though I wasn't on duty I still don't like what I heard. I wanted to ask, and your brother, is well, protective to say the least. I didn't want to upset him further." Nurse Post was looking extremely uncomfortable now and Sam knew enough about the nurse to know that it didn't bode well.

"From all accounts Catherine, had a psychotic incident last night. Now, I've been taking care of that girl for the last week and half and I've seen no signs of mental instability. However, sometimes as I explained a trauma like this can affect people in different ways." The nurse paused as she took in Sam's confused look.

"I guess what I'm suggesting is that we ask Dr. Freedman, our resident psychiatrist, to talk with her. See if he can help her, the way she was attacked and the severity. Well, it really wouldn't surprise me if she was having trouble handling it." The nurse's voice had dropped to a whisper as she took in the steely gaze of the young man before her. Caroline had a sudden thought that she had in fact picked the more dangerous of the two men to speak with.

"Catherine is our responsibility, we will help her. Keep your Dr. Freedman far, far away from her. And I strongly suggest that you don't bring this up to either my sister-in-law or my brother. You won't like their response." Sam picked up his coffee and strode out of the room.


	4. Chapter 4

As Sam entered the hospital room, he handed Dean his coffee and stood for a moment undecided. He wasn't sure if he should tell Dean about his conversation or consider it done. Finally, he decided to tell Dean for the simple reason that he didn't want him hearing it from anyone else.

Dean noticed Sam's unease; he hid a smile as he was reminded of the first time Sam had asked Dean about girls. Sam's features held the same discomfort now. Dean leaned back and waited, he knew instinctively that he wasn't going to enjoy this conversation as much as that long ago 'birds and the bees' talk. Dean gathered his patience and waited knowing that there was no hurrying Sam.

Sam finally sighed and began, "Nurse Post just cornered me; she suggested that Catherine see a counselor." Now that it had come down to it, Sam found that he couldn't say psychiatrist. "She thinks that Catherine's fit was caused by stress from her attack." Sam finished in a hurry as if to lessen the impact of the words.

Dean's jaw clenched and his heavy lidded eyes became as cold as ice. "A counselor, so Catherine's crazy, huh. Bitch," Dean swore his voice gravely with anger. "How dare she, If she'd lived through Cat's childhood, she would have been given the straight jacket years ago. Catherine's tough as nails, she doesn't need to talk about her feelings, and if she does she has me." The palm of Dean's hand rang out as he hit the wall.

Just like that Dean's anger seemed to desert him; he looked toward Sam, and asked, "What if I'm not enough, Sam. What if she does need help and I can't give it to her." Dean turned his back to his brother and made his way back to Catherine's side.

Sam was at a loss for words, he'd suffered an unbearable loss not long ago himself and it had been Dean's support that had helped him through it. No, Dean hadn't taken away the pain, but he'd helped Sam shoulder it, as he'd helped Sam countless times in life. "Dean, we'll wait and see. This may have been a one time incident. Maybe it is just the frustration of being injured, or even the stress of her fight with the demon. But no matter what caused it, I know no one is better equipped to help her get through it."

Dean shot a grateful look at his brother and resumed his vigil over Catherine. Sam sighed and returned to the view out the windows, Sam watched the crows, dive and fight over the refuse in the overflowing dumpster.

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Dean was getting a drink at the water fountain when the commotion started. He could hear her shrill cries, as if she was standing next to him. Dean sprinted down the hall toward her room, finding the door already propped open, he darted in and stopped. The image that greeted him would forever be imprinted on his brain. Catherine, his Katie, was being held immobile by four burly orderlies. Two nurses stood far back from the bed, one sported a bloody nose and the other had her arm wrapped around the injured one. The orderlies each held an arm or leg and yet, Catherine continued to fight with uncommon strength. Dean had a sudden fear that she'd been possessed; even after all the precautions that had been taken.

He swiftly moved towards the struggling men, and found himself wishing that Sam was here. With his calming presence he would have been much better suited at talking the men into letting him get to Catherine. Instead he did what Dean did best, grabbing the closest by the arm; he yanked the man off balance and sent him tumbling to the ground.

Dean leaned in careful to avoid Catherine's flailing arm and spoke in a firm voice. "Catherine, I'm right here. Stop before you hurt yourself."

Catherine seemed to pause for a moment, her eyes frantically focused on Dean and she relaxed. Dean let out a sigh of breath and motioned away the other men. They reluctantly let go of the bruised and battered girl, taking a couple steps back.

Dean gently soothed Catherine's hair from her face, as he took in the damage done by her outburst. Her lip which had never fully healed was bleeding again, and her broken fingers had come unbandaged. He again leaned towards her, intending to talk, instead her hand shot out. The fist caught him across his cheek with enough power to knock him sideways.

Before he could gather himself she'd left the bed and was heading toward the door, gown gaping, without a care. The largest of the orderlies reached out and grabbed for her, his hand just closing over her shoulder. Catherine grabbed the offending hand and turned putting her hip into the man's side. In one smooth motion she flipped the man, dropping him to the ground.

Dean was appalled to see Catherine lean over the fallen man, knee in his chest as she moved to choke him. One of the other orderly's called out to the panicked nurses asking for a sedative. The nurse pulled out a capped syringe and moved towards the waiting orderly. Dean stepped in front of her and took it himself, moving silently he snuck up behind Catherine and quickly administered the drug.

Dean saw the effect was almost immediate. As her body became lax, he caught her and swung her up in his arms. He moved toward the bed, but when it came time to lower her he found he couldn't. He simply held her close, murmuring softly.

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Catherine couldn't win; no matter how she tried she was unable to get loose. She'd failed him completely. Sam was dead and there was no one to blame but Catherine. She knew it was close, she knew that it was waiting for her in the dark. As her thoughts began to scatter she spoke softly.

Dean heard the words that left Catherine's lips, but was unable to make sense of them. As the last vestiges of tension left her, he finally found the strength to lower her to the bed. He carefully tucked the covers back around her, taking care not to jostle her shoulder. He'd failed, Catherine had needed protecting and he'd let her down. The guilt was overwhelming and again he wished for Sam.

An hour later Dean was granted his request, as Sam raced into the hospital room, looking half dressed and not yet quit awake. "Dean, why's she sedated again?" Sam came to a stop as he spied the restraints that held down Cat's hands and feet.

Dean's voice was hoarse with lack of sleep and emotion. "She nearly killed an orderly, Sam. I couldn't stop her, I had no choice." To Dean the words sounded weak, but really what else could he say. He'd failed her, again.

Sam moved toward Dean and stood next to him, barely brushing his side. "I saw her again, Dean, something is doing this to her, this is not your fault. I think we should take her out. What she's seeing, well it would be enough to drive anyone mad."

"What is it, what's causing it?" Dean asked.

Sam moved toward the bed intending to loosen the restraints, it was only then that he noticed the bruise that was appearing on Dean's cheek. Sam grimaced and continued reaching to unstrap Catherine's arms. Dean's hands reached out to stop him.

"Sam, you're not listening Catherine came this close to killing a man, and she knocked me down without thought." Dean practically growled the words; his eyes never quit meeting Sam's

Sam reached out and put a hand on Dean's shoulder, "Dean, her dream, in it she killed you, not on purpose but still. I watched her scream to the heavens, as she sat drenched in your blood. Something is causing her to have these dreams and it's got to be something in this place." Sam didn't continue, there was no point in telling Dean that she'd also envisioned Sam's death. That would only cause Dean to wonder if Sam was in danger.

Sam was confident that these weren't visions of the future but nightmares that were being caused by something. The quality was too surreal every aspect, changed at every moment. Sam leaned in towards Dean, and said, "What if someone or something is causing her to loose control. Controlling her reality, if she felt you were dead or about to die, do you think she would hesitate to free herself? Did she say anything to you?"

Dean stepped back, and said softly, "You can't help me, you're dead. That's what she said. But, Sam, I mean come on, she's been here for how long now and all of the sudden this happens. I mean today she was depressed but she was talking to me. She knew I was alive."

Sam shook his head. "Does it matter, Dean, we need to get her out." Sam waited for Dean's nod. He was unprepared for Dean to shake his head.

"Sam, she's still sick, her kidneys are just beginning to work properly again, and she's going to need rehab for her shoulder. I spoke to Nurse Post this evening and she said the doctor was going to put her back on a feeding tube if she didn't begin eating soon. She's not ready Sam." Dean paled at the thought of taking Catherine away from the safety of the hospital.

"She's not going to get better, Dean; I say we head out tonight. Get her to Bobby's and hole up there until she's well." Sam paced in the face of Dean's refusal to see logic.

Finally, Dean snapped, "It's my decision Sam; she stays till she's better. We'll find a way to help her." Dean climbed onto the bed next to her and leaned against the wall, ignoring Sam's look he closed his eyes and shut out all but the feel of Catherine's body next to his.

Sam didn't understand, Dean thought, he had a better chance protecting her here. Out on the road or even at Bobby's would leave her exposed. Without her even able to care for herself, she would need to lean on Dean, leaving Sam unprotected. Dean simply couldn't protect them both. She was better off here, on the consecrated ground, than slumped in the back seat of the Impala. Sam was right something was causing this and Dean would find it and destroy it, then Cat would be able to heal.

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Dean looked at his watch and sighed, it had been fourteen hours since she her second attack. And she'd gotten progressively worse. For the last hour, she'd lain nearly comatose. But that wasn't the worst, no the worst was when she alternated between begging Dean to remove her IV and claiming that everyone she loved was dead. Her wrists and legs were still restrained and she was still being somewhat sedated. Every time the sedative began to wear off she put every effort into pulling out her IV every chance she had.

Dean had asked if it could be removed but, Nurse Post had declined because Catherine wasn't able to eat or drink. As her eyes fluttered open Dean tried once again to reason with her. At first she'd pretended to listen and agree. And then finally in exasperation, she'd said, "Dean and Sam are dead you bastard. I've got nothing left, nothing but revenge. And I intend to have it." Dean had felt a chill over the tone of her voice, as much as the words. There was nothing in it to suggest his Catherine was still left.

A moment later though and she was once again begging him to take out her IV and let her go. Dean glanced at the clock and refrained from once again calling Sam. Last he'd heard his brother was immersed in the local library.

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Catherine was lost, in all her years through the most unimaginable horrors she'd never been lost. She'd always know the who, the what and the why of her life. Now though she'd lost it all, in the blink of an eye, she knew something wasn't right. She had flashes, moments in which clarity returned. But the rest of the time, she couldn't fight the rage that moved through her. She needed to break free, this she knew but everything else was a blur.

It was like being held underwater by a chain around her ankle. The chain allowed her to reach the surface but just barely. She could draw random breaths but that was it, then the waves of anger would crash over her. Over and over she struggled to the surface, trying to see the truth, only to choke on the lies instead.

Catherine's focus was taken by the man at her side, Oh God, she thought, why would they torment her so. She knew that he was a figment, designed to draw her down into the dark again, but she refused to be led. She would play their game, but in her mind she knew he was dead. Gone from her life forever but that wouldn't stop her from making them pay. Making all of them pay.

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When Sam entered the hospital room he'd almost walked back out. So sure was he that he'd gotten the wrong room. Dean stood as far from Catherine as it was possible in the small room, and she struggled against her bonds screaming threats and curses. Sam winced at the damage her already injured throat must be going through. Sam called out softly, hoping to calm her. "Catherine, it's me Sammy."

For a moment Sam saw relief flood through Catherine's body. She fell back against the bed and smiled wearily. He moved toward the bed only to feel Dean's arms blocking him. Dean shook his head at him, stopping Sam from getting closer.

"Hey, Sammy," Catherine said, softly her voice causing Sam to wince. "Sammy, I need you to let me go, please just let me go." Catherine's eyes begged him and Sam moved forward unthinking. Again the feel of Dean's hands on his chest stopped him.

A moment later Catherine's face became a mask of hate, spittle flew from her mouth as she renounced him and threatened to kill him. Sam backed a step and turned towards Dean. Dean simply shrugged a tear making its way down his cheek. Dean rubbed a hand across his face, and said, "Did you find anything out Sam. I mean I know it's not possession, but you gotta give me something to kill Sam, I can't take anymore."

Sam couldn't tear his eyes away from the pain that was livid in Dean. Resting a hand on his shoulder Sam wished that he had better news. "I can't find any supernatural reason why this is occurring Dean, nothing. I can tell you a hundred things that it's not, but I can't tell you what's doing it." Sam paused as Catherine once again collapsed against her bonds. "Is she ever coherent?"

Dean swallowed, and said, "Nothing more than what you just saw and those periods are getting few and far between. Four or five hours ago she let me sit by the bed, was even joking a bit. Then about two hours ago, she started having the attacks, but was lucid in between. Now, she doesn't acknowledge me even when she's with it. As far as she's concerned I'm dead." Dean stood in silence not sure of what else could be said.

Sam grimaced, and said, "I'm going to go have a chat with that nurse, the blonde. See if I get a reading on her. Why don't you come with me, maybe between the two of us we'll figure something out?"

Dean looked reluctantly at Catherine's now resting form. Dean knew that figuring out what was causing this was the most important thing he could do right now, but that didn't make leaving her any easier. Finally he nodded. "Is she on duty?"

Sam shook his head "No, I thought it'd be better to catch her unawares at home. If something is up we can't do anything about here."

Dean nodded at Sam's logic, shooting one more glance at Catherine's sleeping form he followed his brother out the door


	5. Chapter 5

Catherine lay still, eyes closed and listened. The voice was back, that whispering, insidious voice, speaking its horrible lies. Lies, Catherine told herself harshly. Dean and Sam weren't dead; they hadn't left her alone in a world that held little but cruelty. They'd promised her, promised to stay with her and she knew what a promise meant to the Winchesters.

Catherine felt the rage begin to consume her once again; it had been all she could feel for the last day. Rage at the thing that had torn from her only love, and her best friend. No, Catherine thought struggling to push the thought back down. They weren't dead they'd been here moments ago.

Catherine forced her eyes open, finally, she thought with relief, she was alone for the moment. Quickly, before she lost grip on reality again, she focused on the straps that held her hands down. The small trickle of power that she used to undo one of the straps, caused her to cry out in pain. She had found since her head injury that her powers were unreliable at best, and at worst caused an unmanagable amount of pain. As she used her free hand to release the other, the voice in her head almost took over. Pushing it away before she lost control Catherine reached over and ripped the IV from the back of her hand.

Panting she lay for a moment more and tried to fight the anger that was rising. In her mind she knew that something was trying to control her, forcing her to see and feel things that really weren't real. Catherine almost grinned, little did whatever it was know, Catherine had gone insane years ago. Catherine snickered, but quickly stopped quite liking the hysterical sound.

A plan, that's what she needed a plan, before she lost control again. Catherine sat up and almost passed out. Panting for a moment she reached down and undid the straps holding her legs. As she swung her legs off the side of the bed she took stock of her surroundings. Standing slowly she gripped the bed rail and moved towards the only dresser in the room, hoping to find a change of clothes.

Catherine drew in a breath, feeling slightly more in control of herself. She wasn't sure if it was the motion, but she was finding it easier to keep the confusion at bay. Catherine pushed herself away from the bed, and promptly fell to the ground. Exhaustion overtaking her, Catherine could feel the tears falling from her eyes. She lay, trying to find the strength needed to stand. She had to get away, she wasn't safe there. She needed to find the boys; she needed somewhere she could hole up and heal.

As she lay she heard the unmistakable sound of the door opening. Catherine laid with her cheek resting against the floor, she could see a pair of shoes standing in the doorway. The nurse was facing the hallway and hadn't yet opened the door fully; she seemed to be talking with someone. Catherine, left with no choice, did the only thing she could think of. Sliding carefully she moved herself across the floor.

Eileen McHugh stood for a moment talking with one of the other floor nurses. Stalling is what she was doing to be honest. She'd liked Catherine Chase when she'd first come to her ward. But lately the young girl scared Eileen; she'd watched her go from a pliable patient to a nightmare. "Come on, Jerry, just come in with me. I'll get her vitals; I just don't want to go in alone."

Jerry, a tall heavyset woman in her forties, replied, "Okay, but I've got my own rounds. Let's do this." Both woman turned and entered the room. As they took in their surroundings it was Jerry that echoed the sentiment in Eileen's heart. "Oh, fuck," replied the older nurse.

Eileen spun on her heel racing for the nurse's station, a litany in her mind repeating over and over again. "Oh, my god, Oh my god."

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Sam pulled the door closed behind him and followed Dean down the sidewalk. As they neared the Impala, Sam gave Dean a tiny shove away from the driver's side. He could see the exhaustion on Dean's face, and Sam had no intention of adding a wreck to the mess that their lives were already in. Sam knew it was the right move, when Dean climbed in to the passenger seat with a simple muttered "Bitch"

"Jerk," Sam replied, sitting for a moment hands on the wheel trying to come to terms with what they'd just learned. "So, it was Candy right? I mean the gaps in her memory, waking up in strange places. All of it points to possession."

Dean nodded, and said wearily, "Looks like. We didn't pick up on it because the demon was coming and going. Candy never entered the room, while possessed. But I still don't get how she's causing Catherine to flip out. Maybe altered reality; I know demons can do that?"

Sam frowned. "I'm not sure though, from listening to her it seems she only had moments unaccounted for. If this thing was getting to Catherine through Candy I don't think it was bending reality." Sam watched as Dean opened the glove box. Dean had given Candy his medallion in order to protect her from another possession. Bobby had given the medallions to both the Winchesters and Catherine months ago, with the warning to never take them off. Dean retrieved the extra medallion that they kept in the glove box. He reached up and untied the leather thong that held the amulet he always wore. After slipping the medallion onto the leather thong, alongside the amulet, he quickly retied the thong around his neck.

"Well, now as long as she keeps Bobby's medallion on her the demon shouldn't be able to use her anymore. We need to remember to get a couple more from him." Dean leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "It's just as shame we didn't catch it in the act. We could have exorcised the bastard and been done with it," Dean said, as he reached into his pocket to pull out his ringing phone. Looking down at the ID, he frowned. "Oh, Shit."

Dean glanced in worry over at Sam, before answering the phone. "Yeah, wait slow down, she what. Yeah, yeah we're on our way." Dean hung up the phone, and said, "Catherine escaped, they're searching the clinic but they haven't found her yet."

Sam pulled out in a squeal of tires, as he drove, he asked, "Are you getting anything from her, Dean? Can you tell where she's gone?" Sam asked referring to Catherine's ability to track, or draw people to her by will. The Winchester's had laughingly referred to it as Lojack and the name had stuck.

Dean frowned. "No, her Lojack hasn't worked right since she was hurt. All it does is lead me in circles. Instead of leading me to her, I end up going everywhere she's ever been. I mean I can hear her so I know she's not..." Dean trailed off not able to finish.

Sam knew that Dean meant that she was still alive. Sam pulled into a parking spot and followed Dean towards Catherine's room. Dean was bellowing as he walked, drawing the attention of Nurse Post.

"What the hell happened?" asked Dean, as he passed agitated nurse and walked into Catherine's room.

"No one knows. Shortly after you left, a nurse went in to check on her and found her missing. We've got security searching but no one's been able to find her." Sam watched the nurse, noticing just how upset she seemed.

Unable to really blame her, he said simply, "We'll look for her.

Dean and Sam began searching the clinic, while it wasn't much in the way of size there were enough hiding places to take them a full three hours to search it. Finally, they returned to her room. Standing hands on his hips Dean once again surveyed the room. As Nurse Post entered, he asked, "Where are her personal belongings? The stuff she came in with?"

Sam answered, "Her clothes were trashed so I dumped them and anything else she had on her is in the car. I even tossed her boots, they were..." Sam trailed off, with a grimace. The truth was, Catherine's boots had been saturated in blood.

"Okay, so she's got no clothes, no boots, no money, no phone and she's running around in an open backed gown." Dean pleaded with Sam "Come on man, I mean she's good but no one's that good. Do you think she was taken?"

Sam shot a cautious glance toward the nurse who appeared to be rubbing her eyes wearily. Sam didn't know how much attention Nurse Post was actually paying but he was taking no chances. "No Dean, by every account no one went in or out. Besides, could you imagine someone getting her out quietly in her condition?" Sam looked shrewdly at Dean for moment before continuing, "You know I do know someone that's good enough to get out in the same circumstances." Sam offered Dean a small smile, brow raised.

Dean swung around, and asked, "Who, Sam, I'm not in the mood to play guessing games."

Sam shook his head, and said, "You, you ass. I bet if you put your mind to it you can figure out where she went."

Dean actually looked smug for a moment. "You think I'm that good, huh." Suddenly Dean reached out and braced Nurse Post's shoulders. "Whoa, you okay there Caroline." Dean helped the older woman towards the bed, and lowered her gently, before she could collapse.

"I'm fine, it's just I've had this headache. And then earlier today I think I blacked out. I'm sorry, about Catherine really. I'm fine," Caroline said, as she tried to stand.

Sam squatted down, and looked Caroline in the eye. "Have you been blacking out a lot? Waking up in strange places?"

Caroline nodded. "I've been so stressed lately, and than I found out that someone has been breaking into our pharmaceuticals. I haven't wanted to accuse my staff but really I'm afraid at this point it could be no one else. With that and Catherine's condition deteriorating I've been a mess." Caroline put a hand to her face. "I've become really fond of your young lady."

Dean and Sam exchanged tired glances it was Sam that said, "She's been drugged. That explains it all, some type of psychoactive substance."

At Dean's blank look Sam explained, "Some kind of mind altering drug, you know like a medicinal version of LSD, acid."

"She's tripping? That's what this is?" Dean took in Sam's nod and turned towards Caroline. "Is it possible that Catherine was administered the medication that was missing?"

Caroline looked surprised for a moment but quickly answered, "No one on my staff would have done such a thing. Plus the medication would have altered Catherine's perceptions yes, but to that extreme. I don't think so."

Sam continued, "Anyone else maybe not, but let's face it, Dean. Catherine's not like everyone else, is it any wonder she reacted so violently?"

"Yeah, but to what end, Sam?" Dean asked, as he considered the implications. "And how, I mean we're positive that nothing can enter this room. How was it getting to her?"

Sam nodded and looked about the room; his eyes coming to rest on the IV bag that hung from the hook. "The IV, I bet it was adding the drug to Catherine's IV. And as for the why, well, we set up pretty well here Dean. None of our normal 'friends' could get in, so maybe..." Sam trailed off considering the implications.

Dean's face hardened "Maybe it decided that Catherine in a mental hospital was better than running free. If she was in an institution she would have been left unprotected. Not that I would've allowed it to come to that." But Dean thought to himself would he have really been able to deny her help if she'd continued worsening. Dean felt guilt rip through him. Protect her, he thought, he was doing a bang up job so far.

Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out his own medallion from Bobby, he placed into Caroline's hand, and said, "Don't ask why, just keep this on you at all times. It'll stop the blackouts and I'm sure the thefts." Sam didn't have the heart to tell the nurse that it had been her the whole time.

Caroline looked into Sam's eyes and saw the seriousness in his gaze. She nodded confused but somehow comforted by the thought of no more blackouts. She stood carefully and was glad when her legs supported her. Glancing at the men, she said, "The clinics been searched from top to bottom, she's no longer here. I'd like to help in any way, but short of calling the police..." Caroline stopped she knew there was no reason to continue.

Dean nodded to her, and said, "We'll be heading out soon; I just want to check one more time. Take care of yourself and remember don't ever take that medallion off."

Caroline nodded and stepped out of the room. Sam turned towards Dean with a lifted brow. "So, we know Catherine wasn't crazy. We know she removed the IV and has been drug free for..." Sam glanced at his watch. "Three, almost four hours. So Dean where is she, what would she have done."

Dean glanced at Sam with a small frown. Turning towards the bed, he closed his eyes for a moment and thought. Okay, stuck in a room, no clothes, surrounded by people that want to poison you. Dean opened his eyes and looked again at the bed. "Hm, she was only alone for a moment right?" At Sam's confirming nod Dean moved to her bed. "She was still pretty unstable; the drug would have been wearing off." Dean grinned and turned towards Sam "What if she never left the room, what if she was under the bed when we came in." At Sam's incredulous look Dean barked a laugh. "It's what I would have done, She's confused, lost doesn't know who to trust so she waits for an opportunity." Dean turned towards the bed again, studying it intently. After a moment he turned swiftly towards the window.

Sam watched Dean's sad smile as he looked out of the window towards the parking lot. Finally, Dean said, "Hey, Sam, why don't you put on your coat and we'll head out." Sam watched Dean, confusion on his face. "Sure, Dean, where are we going to look next?"

"Check your pocket and we'll go back to the hotel," Dean said, as he headed for the door.

Sam raised an eyebrow in confusion. Shrugging he put his hand in his pocket intending to get the keys. Instead of the familiar ring, there was nothing but a piece of paper and the pen he always carried. Sam searched his other pocket and found nothing. Finally, checking his jeans he looked to Dean, and said, "I must have dropped the keys." Sam looked at the paper he'd found in his pocket. Opening the folded note, he read. Grinning broadly Sam held the paper out to Dean.

Dean shared the grin, and said, "That's my girl." As the boys headed out of the clinic for the last time Dean once again looked at the words on the paper - it simply read "See you at home."

Sam and Dean stood in front of the clinic. Sam turned toward Dean, and said, "You want to hoof it or call for a cab."

Dean was already moving out at a jog, his pace steady in the early evening light. Sam nodded and took off after him. Sam and Dean jogged towards the hotel, both content to be moving. The past week's inactivity had been difficult on the two normally active young men. Finally, Sam broke the silence "How'd you know about the keys, Dean."

Dean laughed and picked up his pace slightly, anxious to get to Catherine. "We searched that hospital Sam; there was nowhere for her to go. Then I remembered you laying your coat on the bed, and I just knew."

Sam continued moving, stretching out his stride feeling strong. Nodding, he said, "And she got the hotel room name from the paper, she's good. Bobby trained her well."

"Yeah, well don't forget she spent time with Dad also." Dean moved his stride even his breath barely elevated. "Let's just hope she made it, she was pretty out of it."

"She's going to be fine, once the drugs pass through her system. It'll be like it never happened. She may not even remember what happened." Sam felt a surge of relief to see the motel sign come into view. Picking up their pace the boys headed for the parking lot. Both let out sighs of relief to see the Impala parked in front of the hotel.

As Dean approached the car, he saw a slumped figure in the front seat. Dean moved towards the car suddenly afraid of how he would find Catherine. What if's kept rolling through his mind, what if she was still having delusions, what if she blamed him for not helping her. As he opened the car door, he watched her eyes open slowly. Dean breathed a sigh of relief, for the first time in days, Catherine's gaze was clear eyed and direct.

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Catherine had lain under the hospital bed, trying not to panic. Normally, getting out of a situation like this would have been a snap. This time though not only was she at a disadvantage because of her physical condition, but she still couldn't seem to hang onto a thought. As she listened to the hospital turn itself upside down searching for her she stayed under the bed. Drifting in and out of sleep, she began feeling better than she had in days. Finally, she'd heard Dean and Sam's strong voices, she'd desperately wanted to climb out and allow them to fix everything.

Instead she had lain, too scared that Dean would insist that she stay. Catherine knew she'd come close to losing herself in this room and the thought of staying was terrifying. As Catherine heard Nurse Post enter the room, she was glad she'd followed her instincts. She lay listening to the boys, picking up on all they left unsaid. Finally, they'd left to join the search. Catherine had gotten slowly to her feet, and had searched the room, slowly and painfully. Finally, unable to come up with a plan, she sat defeated on the end of her bed. Prepared for someone to find her, instead she'd sat on the Impala keys.

Grinning for the first time in days, she'd rummaged through Sam's pockets confident that he would have nicked the stationary from the hotel. It had taken her a while to sneak out of the hospital. Finally, she'd lucked out and found the staff changing room. She quickly gotten dressed, though she'd still been shoeless, she had then tied her long hair in a knot and walked out of the locker room without pause. Ten minutes later found her in the parking lot and sliding into the front seat of the car.

As she'd slid across the seat, settling on the warm leather she'd breathed deeply. It's funny; she thought how this car had become a home away from home. As a wave of dizziness swept over her she'd leaned her head back, resting. With a jerk she'd opened her eyes ten minutes later, she'd almost fallen asleep. She knew she needed to get going; she needed to be well away from the hospital. She didn't want to fight with Dean, but she also knew she wouldn't be going back. The easiest way to avoid trouble would be to not be there.

As Cat started the car, she felt a moment's cheer at the thought that Sam and Dean would find themselves walking back to the hotel. Serves them right, she thought, next time they can damn well rescue her, instead of forcing her to do it herself.

888

The young girl stood on the corner, her gaze never wavered from the black car that was parked across the street. Her name had been Tara and though she still referred to herself by that name her black eyes testified that the twelve year old was no longer in control. A tall gaunt man stepped up beside her; the girl felt a flicker of fear.

"Well sister, I see you've been a busy little bee." The man had a long face and thin sparse hair. His voice was deep and well used.

Tara scowled once more at the black car, "It would have worked, I was so close. The girl would have been lost in her own mind, open to possession and manipulation. Father would have lifted me above you all. I would have been the next to stand at his side." Hate flowed through her young mind, hate for the girl that was now escaping, and hate for the brothers who had caused her father so many problems. She'd failed, the plan had been to separate the three. Break the girl and add another black mark to the younger Winchester's soul.

Instead the girl had continued to fight. The black eyed demon snarled the sound incongruous with her pretty face. Even after all that had been taken from Catherine she hadn't broken, she had kept fighting. Maybe if she'd gotten more time, maybe if the brothers hadn't found out and kept her from entering her hosts again. While she'd been waiting to up the ante, they had gotten to the two nurses, the only ones that had access to both the girl and the drugs. And then unforeseen to the demon, the girl had escaped.

"Go ahead, Sister," The man beside her said, eyes solid black. "She's weak, how much would it take to simply remove her now. Not as poetic as driving her insane, but really dead is almost as good."

At these words the girl almost stepped out onto the street, intent on killing the hunter that sat behind the wheel of the car. Almost, until she heard the low chuckle. Bringing herself under control Tara stopped. "No, I'm not that dumb. She's killed one of us already and I don't intend to be next." No she would regroup, start over. As she looked at the man beside her a sly look overcame her "Go ahead brother dear, you can be the one. With your strength I'm sure that you would overcome her before she was able to defend herself.

The man looked down, his voice heavy with sarcasm, "Thank you for the vote of confidence Sister, but I have other plans. I'll be seeing you." With these words, he turned. A moment later he turned back to her. "Remember sister, the children are to remain alive. But" and here he smiled a chilling look that made even the possessed young girl shiver. "The soldier is expendable." With these words he turned and blended into the crowds that moved along the sidewalk.

Tara turned and sent one more look towards the car as it pulled out. As the car merged into the traffic she turned and made her way up the street. She needed to ditch this body and find one more suitable. Hm, she thought, as she began to plan her next move. The guardian, John Winchester had been removed, by her dear own Dad. Leaving Sam unprotected, yes he had a soldier, his brother but really a simple soldier wouldn't be enough to stop her father's long laid plans. The soldier was expendable, a smile eased over her face. She, would be the most powerful; she, would be the one to stand beside her father.

888

"Hey, Dean, hope you don't mind I borrowed the car." Catherine gave Dean a weak grin, striving to sound stronger than she felt. She didn't want to give Dean a reason to take her back. She noted Sam standing at Dean's shoulder and took heart in the smile he sent her. Finally, she focused on Dean ready to argue if necessary. That's when she took in his haggard appearance, not to mention the nasty purple bruise that radiated up from his chin. Catherine reached a shaking hand up to the bruise and gently laid a hand on it. A question in her eyes, Catherine simply continued to touch him.

Dean closed his eyes at Catherine's touch; he allowed himself a moment to just enjoy. Finally, he took the battered hand in his own, and simply said, "I hit myself with the bathroom door." He watched Catherine as he uttered the lie. He knew she didn't believe it but she also didn't remember that she'd been the one to mark him. Not wanting to answer any questions Dean, said simply, "We've gotta go, kiddo. That bastard is after you, and it won't be happy you escaped."

Catherine simply slid across the bench seat and laid her head back against the seat. Closing her eyes, she rasped, "Ready when you are." Dean turned to look at Sam.

"You want to pack Sam, I'll wait here." At Sam's nod, Dean settled into the car next to the battered hunter. As Dean waited, he asked, "How are you feeling?"

Without opening her eyes, Catherine replied, "How do I look?"

Dean nodded, and said, "That bad huh," grinning at Catherine's weak nod.

Ten minutes later Sam threw their bags in the trunk and moved towards the passenger side "Catherine, I snagged some pillows. How about you jump in the back and stretch out. You'll feel better."

Catherine shook her head and pressed herself against Dean, "No, I'm good here, Sam. Let's go."

Sam let it go at a look from Dean; sliding into the Impala next to Catherine he picked up her feet and set them across his legs. As he watched Catherine leaned her head on Dean's shoulder and shifted until she found a comfortable position. Sam reached into the back seat and drew an old blanket over her, making sure to take care with her shoulder.

Catherine could feel the reassuring growl of the engine as Dean accelerated onto the highway. She finally began to relax, the tension that had gripped her for hours seeping away now that she was surrounded once again by the brothers. It was only as she began drifting that she noticed a familiar scent about Dean. Opening one eye, she asked, "Why do you smell like me?"

Catherine watched as Dean flushed, intrigued she asked again, "Dean, have you been using my shampoo?"

Catherine looked over towards Sam ready to share a grin and a laugh at the older brother's expense, but instead she noticed that Sam also looked embarrassed. Leaning forward she sniffed Sam and again noticed the distinctive smell of lime and coconut.

Dean finally pulled her back towards him, settling her once again he said a bit grumpily, "Well, seeing as we've been at your beck and call for the last couple of weeks, supplies have gotten kind of sparse. After we ran out of shampoo, we raided your bag. The coconut crap was all we could find." Dean turned and had to grin at the look of delight on Catherine's face.

"And before you open your mouth, let me remind you that you don't smell like coconuts and lime, in fact you're distinctive odor reminds me more of that water demon we wasted in Fort Washington, you remember the one that smelled like pond scum."

At Dean's words Catherine let out a squawk. "Hello, death bed here. Sorry if I'm not April fresh." She grumbled as she once again, settled in. Lulled to sleep by the sound of the engine, Catherine relaxed in the knowledge that she was home.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean watched as the darkness swept past him, heading east he kept a straight line towards Bobby's place. He knew he'd be unable to drive straight through, he was simply too tired, but he intended to go until he dropped. Picking up the cup that rested between his legs he took a sip of the quickly cooling coffee. A while back he'd stopped for gas, and had loaded up on caffeine and sugar.

Dean stole a glance at his passengers. Catherine had woken only briefly since they had left town. Sam on the other hand had actually given Dean a brief respite a couple hours ago. Sam now slept, the blanket that Catherine was using pulled up under his chin. They both looked so peaceful, he envied them.

Dean glanced their way and shook his head in amusement, Catherine was leaning on Dean's shoulder; he could feel a wetness seeping through his shirt from her drooling. Her feet rested across Sam's lap, and were pressed against the window. Sam was hunched low in the seat; his knees were pressed against the dashboard, his long arms hugging Cat's legs unconsciously. His mouth hung open and he let go with a gusty snort every now and then.

There they lay, thought Dean, hunters of evil, saviors of mankind. Both marked by power, so great that they were being hunted by a demon. A demon so ferocious it had been arbitrarily killing people whose lives touched these two. Catherine able to move objects and level buildings using only her will, and Sam able to see the future, defenders of good. Dean grunted; if you could frickin believe it.

And here they slept, soundlessly and peacefully. Dean's musings were interrupted as Sam let out a snore and Catherine swiped at the drool that inched down her chin. Yeah, sighed Dean, people could sleep easier knowing that these two were on the job.

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Catherine awoke swiftly, clear minded and aware. What a relief she thought to herself. She reached up and wiped the wetness from her face. Patting the spot she'd made on Dean's shoulder.

She'd long ago given up being embarrassed every time she drooled on him. It was simply his unfortunate luck that her favorite place to sleep was sprawled against his chest. Not willing to give up that coveted spot and unable to stop herself from drooling, when she was seriously tired, she'd just decided to ignore the fact that she did.

She tried moving her legs but found she couldn't. Looking down she could see Sam's arms wrapped around her them. Instead of disturbing him she leaned her head back down onto Dean, and said quietly, "I could drive if you want. Give you a break."

Dean took his right hand off the wheel and wrapped it around Catherine's shoulders. "No thanks, not till you're a hundred percent, I can't risk my baby taking another hit."

"Huh, Normally, I'd take offense at that comment but for now I'm too sore. You planning on telling me what happened; it's all kind of fuzzy." Despite Catherine's casual words, Dean could hear the fear in her voice.

Dean paused for a moment gathering his thoughts, "You were scared, Catherine, and you did everything you could to get yourself free. It wasn't your fault; I should have gotten you away sooner. Or at least figured out what was wrong quicker."

Catherine's voice was so low, that Dean had to strain to hear it. "I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't gotten loose Dean. I came so close to loosing it, and I don't know if I would have been able to find my way back." In a stronger voice Catherine said, "You're full of bullshit, you know. You didn't do anything Sam or I wouldn't have done. You tried to keep me safe; you had no way of knowing what was causing my... attacks."

Dean kept his glance fixed on the road in front of him; finally he nodded, and said, "yeah, well it's all over. I'm going to find us a motel. You feel up to a shower and maybe some food?"

Catherine knew a change of subject when she heard one, she considered pushing the issue but let it drop instead. There was no point in pushing Dean, he would be sure to shut down. No, with Dean a little at a time worked better. Catherine put on a smile, and said, "A shower sounds divine."

Dean nodded and began searching for signs to the nearest motel. Catherine wrapped her good arm around him and felt a sense of peace settle around her. Yup, she thought, everything was going to be okay.

888

Dean had found a hotel, just off the highway. Not one of the best they'd stayed in but not the worst either. Sam had awoken as Dean was in the office checking in. Catherine had explained that they were going to take a break, and catch some sleep. Sam had nodded and confessed to being hungry.

Once they had pulled in front of the small unit, Dean had watched like a mother hen as Catherine had stumbled towards the hotel room. Blanket covering her flimsy hospital gown, Catherine had settled on the first bed and had promptly fallen asleep.

Dean shook Catherine awake a half-hour later. "Hey, Katie we've got food. Come on let's get you fed."

Dean watched as Catherine came awake, a tired but lucid smile on her face. Nodding she sat up and leaned back against the headboard. For the first time in days Dean allowed himself to take stock in Catherine's appearance. The cut on her forehead seemed to be healing well; Dean reminded himself that he should probably pull the stitches in the morning. Next, he noted that the bruise on her chin that had been a deep purple color was slowly fading to a sick green color. The blow which had broken her nose had also caused the skin under her eyes to blacken. The bruising was faded and her nose, which had been broken before seemed to be healing. He knew her shoulder was bad, and he was sure that the past few days worth of wrestling moves hadn't helped at all. And her throat was still bruised and sore, but still all in all she seemed to be on the mend.

Catherine noticed Dean's intense once over and self-consciously ran a hand through her hair. She knew she looked terrible; it hadn't bothered as much while in the hospital. Now that she was out though she found herself curious as to just how much damage had been done.

Smiling a bit she accepted the Styrofoam bowl that he handed her. Opening the lid she took a deep breath of the chicken soup and groaned in pleasure. Upon smelling the soup her appetite which had been non-existent over the last few days returned with a vengeance.

Dean watched as Catherine tried to handle the spoon, with her broken fingers. Watching her frustration he was about to offer help, when she simply tipped the bowl to her mouth and sipped. Dean and Sam exchanged smiles and set to eating their own dinner.

Catherine slowly drank the soup, taking it slower than she wanted to. She was afraid it had been so long since she had last had solid food that she'd become sick if she rushed it. She slowly sipped her soup, trying not to feel jealous as they scarfed down their burgers and fries. "So, fill me in. What happened in Vegas, and Green Haven?"

Dean looked in surprise at Catherine, "You don't remember?

Catherine shook her head slightly; her muscles had tightened up even more while she had slept. Now that her hunger had been abated she was feeling every ache in her body. "Last thing I can clearly remember is hitting the jackpot at the Casino, in Vegas." Catherine's frowned "guess the bad guys nabbed the wad, huh? It's a shame it would have kept us in Lucky Charms and Beer for a while."

Sam grinned, and said, "Actually, who do you think we have to thank for this sumptuous fare. You still had the money on you at the hospital; I tell you it raised some eyebrows. You're the first victim of a violent crime that had a little over five thousand dollars on her, after being beaten to a pulp."

Catherine laughed happy that the trip to Vegas hadn't been a total waste. "Good, I'm glad. I'm sure that the hospital stay wasn't cheap."

Dean smiled smugly this time, and said, "Yeah, well Mr. Richards kindly paid for everything."

Catherine nodded and set aside her soup, "So how bad was it that you guys are avoiding telling me about it."

Dean and Sam glanced at each other, finally Dean said, "As bad as it's possible to get." Sam nodded in agreement. "It wasn't the yellow eyed demon, though he did make an appearance, apparently just another kid. You, um...sent it back to hell. But not before it beat the life out of you." Dean found that he didn't want to continue.

Sam picked up the conversation. "We got you to Green Haven, where you...died. Um, your heart started again, and you eventually began getting better. Then apparently two of the nurses assigned to your floor were unwittingly dosing you with a drug designed to make you hallucinate. That's it."

Catherine laughed slightly, "That's it, huh. Has anyone found out, if Hannah's alright?"

Sam flushed slightly, and said, "I've been talking to her; she arrived at Bobby's safe and sound. She wants to go home, though. Bobby was going to find out if it was safe for her."

"Good, she's a good friend and I'd hate to have her get hurt because of me. Are you alright Sam? I mean with what she can do?" Catherine shot a questioning look at Sam, hoping that he'd forgiven her for keeping Hannah's powers a secret.

Sam smiled genuinely. "Its fine Catherine. Really, I still haven't told her about me, I understand why she didn't want to tell me. And I understand why you didn't tell me."

Catherine felt relief wash over her. She'd kept the younger girl's secret from Sam and it had hurt to do it. However, it hadn't been her place to share it with him.

Dean finally finished off his burger in a last massive bite. Picking up his trash, he moved towards Catherine's bed. "Listen Katie, I'm going to help you get cleaned up. The only problem is" Here Dean paused looking guilty "I kind of left our bags at Hannah's. Sam and I have picked up some stuff in the meantime, but you are out of luck."

Catherine just leaned back and laughed; finally she stopped, and said, "Do I have anything?" She watched as Dean nodded and drew out the red canvas bag she kept her toiletries in. "Well, actually if you were going to remember anything that would be the best." Catherine pushed herself up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "Dean, if I could get a tee and a pair of boxers I can make do." Dean nodded and handed her the clothes he'd already pulled out for her.

Dean wrapped an arm around her shoulder and helped her into the bathroom. He was alarmed by just how stiffly Catherine seemed to be moving. Finally, they made it in and he settled her onto the toilet. Dean set about adjusting the water and setting out Catherine's varied soaps and shampoo bottles. Dean shook his head; he'd been living on the road with Catherine for over a year now. It was the longest Dean had ever spent with a woman.

I mean maybe if you added up all his one-nighters he might come close to a year. But really, sneaking out in the early morning light didn't leave you prepared for living with a woman day and night. Sam had taken the various bottles and, um feminine products as par for the course, but Dean still felt in awe of the sheer amount of crap Catherine needed in order to feel human.

And the kicker was, Cat was pretty basic when you came right down to it. Regardless Dean found himself happy to set out Catherine's bottles and tubes, happy to see them gracing his shower again. Hell, to be honest he'd been quite content to use her shampoo for the last week simply because it reminded him of her. Now, there was a thought he would keep to himself.

Dean noticed just how quiet Catherine was, he glanced at her and noticed the pinched look around her eyes. He knew she was probably aching and he hurried to get her under the hot spray of water as quick as possible.

Catherine felt stupid, she actually felt nervous over Dean helping her. It wasn't as if after a year he wasn't every bit as familiar with her body as she was. It was just that she could only imagine what she looked like right now. Her body felt as if it had been literally put through a wringer. And she knew she had the bruises to match. The worst of it was, she hadn't been able to wash her hair, or shower for the last week and sponge baths weren't really conducive to getting clean.

Catherine took a breath, and said, "Dean, I can handle this on my own. Why don't you call Bobby and let him know we're on our way home." Catherine looked hopefully at Dean.

Dean looked in surprise at Catherine, honestly, living like they did. Hotel bathrooms were about the only place Dean and Catherine ever managed to find any privacy. They'd both come to terms with that a long time ago, Dean wasn't sure why Catherine wanted him out. But he respected her wish for privacy. "Just let me help you get in and I'll leave you in peace, for a while."

Before Catherine could shrug him off, Dean eased her out of the gown she was wearing. As he pulled the thin gown from her, he couldn't help but gasp in horror. Catherine's body looked as if she'd gone ten rounds with a Mack truck, her wrists and ankles were scraped raw. There were several places on her torso, that he could see actual fading footprints from where she'd been kicked and stamped on.

Dean took a shaky breath, as guilt assailed him. Protector, he thought, yeah right. He'd been basically useless while she'd been brutally beaten and then later tortured, coming to her rescue too late to prevent it. And then he'd had her sedated time and again while she was being drugged and driven insane.

Dean suddenly felt sick; he'd failed Catherine in so many ways. Yet, there she stood, trusting as ever, not even knowing the worst. That he'd left her at the hospital to try and keep Sammy safe. That he had chosen Sam over her. Turning from her quickly, he mumbled something about her being all set and all but ran from the bathroom.

Catherine swayed slightly as Dean's supporting arms were suddenly gone. She listened to his hastily mumbled words and watched as he all but ran out of the small bathroom. Catherine watched in confusion and finally stepped into the shower, sinking to the floor of the bath she sat for a moment.

Fuck, thought Catherine as she sat in the bottom of the motel bathtub. Hot water pouring over her, she sat trying to figure out why everything seemed so wrong. She was tired and everything hurt. Now, she had the added benefit of wondering if she repulsed Dean. It just keeps getting better, thought Catherine wearily as she raised her head at the sound of angry voices coming from the next room.

Finally after what seemed like five minutes but was closer to a fifteen she heard a knock on the door. Unable to summon the energy to answer she simply stood and began the long process of getting clean.

Soon she heard Sam call out and heard the door open, "Catherine everything okay?" Sam asked, through the open door.

"I'll be out in a minute, Sam." Catherine called trying desperately to wash her hair with only one good arm. Finally, calling it good enough Catherine finished. At this point she was so tired she just wanted to lie down and cry, and the bathroom floor seemed as good a place as any. Just before sinking to the ground, she heard Sam once again call out. Knowing that she couldn't allow Sam to worry any longer Catherine gathered the rest of her strength and answered. Picking up the boxers Dean had left for her she pulled them on and secured them with a safety pin, her fingers fumbling with the small clasp. Next she picked up the tee that Dean had left and just stared at it. She hadn't been able to lift her arms to shower there was no way she was getting that shirt on.

Opening the door in desperation she peaked out and called to Sam "Hey, Sam, can you grab one of Dean's flannels. I can't get this tee-shirt on."

Sam flushed in anger for the umpteenth time, he was furious at Dean for running out to drown his sorrows in some bar, rather than helping Catherine get settled. Sam quickly found a shirt and put it into Cat's outstretched hand. "Why don't you let me help Cat?" Sam asked, already knowing what the answer would be.

Catherine flashed Sam a tired smile, and said, "No need Sam I got it, I'll be out in a minute." With these words the door closed in Sam's face. Sighing Sam moved towards the bed and sat, straining to hear any noises that indicated Cat might be in trouble. Sam knew that in spite of how close they had become she would never allow him to help her. She only allowed Dean to help her because Dean gave her no choice.

Damn, Dean's guilt trip had happened at the worst possible minute. Earlier Sam had been watching TV when he'd seen Dean bolt from the bathroom as if it was on fire. He'd quickly grabbed his keys and coat and had the door partway open before Sam had registered what was going on. Standing Sam, had grabbed Dean's arm, stopping him from leaving. At his questioning glance, Dean had tried to put on a cocky smile. Instead it came out more like a grimace. "Cat's good Sam, I'm gonna go grab a beer. I'll be back."

Sam stood undecided for a moment; he wasn't sure if he should press Dean for answers now or let him go and deal later. After they'd arrived at Bobby's and didn't have such thin walls. Sam didn't know what excuse Dean had used to leave but he didn't want to risk upsetting Catherine. Then again, Dean was acting like an ass and would most likely only get worse. Finally Sam asked, "What's going on Dean?"

"Nothing," Dean, replied quickly slipping on his mask of cocky attitude. "What a guy can't want a beer after the week we've had?"

"So that's what this is, you have a sudden hankering to leave and go drown yourself at some bar," Sam said, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"Yeah, so what, Francis. So what are we married now, cause I gotta say you so not my type." At Sam's look of anger Dean tried a different track. "I'm gonna go play a little pool; maybe even win us a couple bucks." Dean moved to head out the door. Sam's hand on his arm stopped him.

Staring down at the offending gesture, Dean turned suddenly glad that Sam was pushing. Suddenly glad for a reason to take a shot at his brother, hell taking a shot at anyone about now sounded good. He'd been so fucking useless for the last couple of weeks. Dean offered one more chance to Sam. "Let go, Sam."

Sam was so tempted to push Dean, hell, thought Sam it had been a long while since the two of them had gone at it. The only thing stopping Sam was that afterwards Dean wouldn't consider it fair. He'd feel as if he was at fault and God knew Dean was already heaped in guilt. Sam didn't want to add to it.

Sam removed his hand and tried once more. "None of this is your fault you know that. You can't protect us from everything. You gotta let it go, and move on. There have been plenty of times that it was you battered and broken, you've sacrificed plenty. This time Cat drew the short straw, next time it might be me. You can't keep blaming yourself." Sam stared into his brother's hard green eyes, imploring that he listen to him.

"Nope, that's where you're wrong Sam, it's going to be you and Catherine over and over again until one of you ends up dead. Taken from me by the demon, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. Oh, I can talk the big talk but really, I couldn't save Dad and I won't be able to save you." With theses words, Dean spun from the room and headed towards the Impala.

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A half hour later of listening to the shower and Sam was ready to kick down the door, modesty be damned. Finally, it opened and Catherine stepped out. She was pale and shaking, she grasped the shirt shut with one hand and smiled up at Sam with a rueful grin. "I can't get the buttons, Sam. I tried I just..."

Sam became alarmed as Catherine staggered slightly. Catching herself at the last moment, she simply set her legs and looked up at Sam. Sam quickly buttoned the flannel shirt and hovered as Catherine made it to her bed, lowering herself gently she simply said, "Night, Sam."

Within moments Sam heard Catherine's breathing even out as she fell asleep. Sam moved about the room gathering their medical supplies. Taking Catherine's sleeping hand in his he quickly re-tapped her fingers and dressed the wounds on her wrists. Next he dosed all the lights except the bathroom and opened the motel room door, taking a seat on the plastic chair outside Sam waited.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean took a seat at the bar, with a wave at the pool table. Ted Grissom graciously waved back. Dean let out the breath he'd been holding. He'd started playing pool with Ted and his buddies about three hours ago.

At first he'd been looking for a fight, something to clear his mind, something to get his blood pumping. To that end he'd set up a game with the biggest, meanest looking guy in the bar. Dean had proceeded to thoroughly tromp Ted and take several hundred dollars from. And yet, the guy had remained even keeled, he'd ignored Dean's more pointed comments and had simply played the game.

It was while Ted had been buying a round of drinks, Dean had heard a buddy of his mention that Ted's nickname was Bear, as in Teddy Bear. Apparently, the guy was legendary for his slow fuse and calm ways, just Dean's luck.

That's when Dean acknowledged that short of getting nasty himself and outright jumping the guy he wasn't going to get the fight he was looking for. So instead he'd settled to get drunk, yep, fall down, nasty drunk. An hour into his first beer and he realized that his heart just wasn't in it.

That's when he'd ambled up to the bar. Sitting there he acknowledged the beer that was set in front of him by the pretty barmaid. Normally, Dean would have settled for sweet talking himself into her panties to relieve the tension that gripped him. Unfortunately, since it was a woman that was causing the tension in the first place that didn't appeal to him this time. Dean ignored the young bar maid's advances and swung around on his seat taking in the other patrons.

It was one thirty in the morning and the bar was still hoping. Dean sat, his relaxed posture and laid back attitude, not quite able to hide the true depth of his danger. He hated feeling like this and he hated the fact that he'd walked out on Catherine. It was just, his life had spun out of control and he was at a loss as how to deal with it.

He found himself missing his Dad more than ever. During the years that John and Dean had hunted together John had led and Dean had happily followed. Yes, his father had accepted his opinions and suggestions but ultimately it had been John who'd decided the next step. With his Dad he'd been allowed to be a simple soldier, everything had been clearer, simpler, he followed orders and didn't stop to question.

With Sam though, every thought in his head was a question and it was wearing him down. And now unwittingly Catherine had become an added burden, her power and strength a beacon to all that was evil. How was he to keep up the façade everyone expected? The 'I'm going to save you' speech felt just like that, a speech, said with conviction but nothing to back it up.

Dean simply didn't know how much more help he could be, he wasn't special, he didn't have powers, he had only his strength and his skills and he was no longer sure that these would be enough to keep the two people he loved safe.

Dean took a sip of his beer, leaning back against the bar. As he sat he found his attention drawn to a couple at the back of the bar. They sat in the shadows; the man was neatly dressed and somewhat portly. He looked to be in his late forties, his thick black hair was cut in a bowl shape and he wore a dress shirt and tie.

Suite, thought Dean, disgusted by the way the man, red-faced and panting was touching the young girl that sat with him, the very young girl.

Dean turned slightly in his seat, so as not to appear to be watching. The girl looked no more than sixteen; her long red hair was braided. Her face was devoid of makeup and she was wearing a simple pair of jeans and a tee-shirt. Her appearance was one of innocence and even from where Dean sat he could see the fear staring out of her pretty green eyes. The girl was doing her best to fend off the Suite's grasping hands, but he was relentless.

Dean could feel his temper rising, finally he stood and made his way back to the pool tables. Passing the couple Dean took in the marks that the Suite had left on the young girls arms. As he walked by he stared hard down at the young girl, willing her to look up. She did and Dean saw the pleading in her eyes. That was enough for him, tipping her a quick wink he moved to where Ted was still playing pool with his buddies.

Moving up beside the big man, Dean nodded towards the couple. "So, Bear, do you know them?"

Bear glanced over at the couple, and grimaced. "Stay out of it Dude, he doesn't look like much but he's a councilman for this sleepy burg, you interrupt and he'll make your life a living hell."

Dean's face broke into a genuine smile, the first in a while. "Really, he'll make life hard huh? Who's the girl?" Dean asked, rocking back on his heels.

"Don't know, he likes them young. She's probably not from around here. Every now and then he picks up a hitcher. He likes to tell people he's 'helping them' but it's always young girls on there own. I've stopped him from going to far a couple times, and keep ending up in the county jail for it."

Dean nodded and clapped Bear on the chest. "Well listen, I'm gonna start a little something. I want you to stay out of it. I'm just passing through; he can't cause problems for me."

Bear nodded to the young man, taking in the eager look on his face, Bear laughed, a grumbling sound that seemed to make to floor shake. "You do that and I'll enjoy watching. Just keep in mind the two big bastards sitting at the end of the bar are his too."

If anything Dean's grin became wider. "Thanks for the tip, Bear." With a wink Dean moved away.

Ted watched as the younger man, stepped away. He'd had spent the evening playing pool with the young man. He'd noticed the over abundance of energy that seemed pour from him. Watching him move, Ted had no doubt that the kid could do more than handle himself. Ted, not eager to spend the evening in a bar brawl had walked carefully. He knew that size didn't count for shit, and this kid seemed like the type to prove that.

Dean left Bear's side and ambled back toward the bar, as he neared the couple he stopped, stumbling a bit he leaned down and said with his best smile. "Hey, honey, why don't you dance with me. I'm sure that Daddy here won't mind." Before the councilman could even register Dean's presence, Dean had pulled the girl to her feet and was escorting her away from him, towards Ted.

"I'm going to get you out of here. I want you to wait over by the men playing pool. They look rough but you'll be safe," Dean whispered with a wink he deftly spun the young girl toward the tables and turned swinging hard, taking the first of the goons with a right to the chin.

Kicking out in anticipation Dean caught the other in the chest, knocking him down. Striding up to the suite, Dean grabbed him by the throat and raised him up. "Listen up, Councilman, I find out you're picking up girls again and I'm going to come back here and kill you. No if and or but, you'll be dead the moment you touch the first girl." Dean dropped the councilman and swung around low, catching the first bodyguard with a punch to the gut. Dean didn't connect as well as he wanted though and the man countered with a right to Dean's face, Dean felt the skin above his brow split and he grinned even wider.

Grabbing the chair behind him, Dean swung it with a powerhouse swing, catching the bodyguard across the head. The man fell like a stone to the ground. Turning, Dean looked at the remaining guard. He was still hunched over himself, he seemed to be retching. Dean grinned and turned back to the councilman.

The man was scrabbling toward the bar, frantically trying to dial his cell. Dean took two strides and caught up with him. Grabbing him from behind, Dean took the phone and dropped it. Bringing his foot down, he shattered the phone.

Dean once again lifted the shorter man. "Now, tell me you understand. Tell me that I won't have to come back here someday soon, to kill you in your sleep." The councilman must have seen some truth in the steady green eyed gaze. His bladder promptly let go, and he moaned, "Please, please don't hurt me."

Dropping the pathetic excuse for a man, without looking back, he moved to where the girl stood with Ted. Smiling his best smile, pausing only to wipe the trickle of blood that obscured his vision, Dean held out his hand. The girl took it hesitatingly. Dean led her towards the door of the bar. His grin widened as he watched the girl bring back a sneaker encased foot and drive it into the sniveling councilman's side.

Dean knew as he stepped outside that the police would be on their way shortly, if they hadn't already been called. Turning, he asked the girl, "What's your name?"

Sherry drew in a breath and let it out slowly. She'd been on her way to visit with friends at a local college when her ancient Volkswagen bug had broken down. Not being able to get cell reception, she'd accepted a ride from the well dressed man. Sherry had known it was a mistake the moment she'd done it but by then it had been too late. Staring now at the young man that had rescued her she couldn't help the tears that pooled in her eyes.

"My name's, Sherry, my car broke down." As she spoke, explaining what had happened, she noted the blood that wept from the gash on his forehead. Reaching into her pocket, she drew out a clean bandanna and handed it to him. He stared at the square of material for a moment before reaching out with a smile to take it.

"Alright, do you know where your car is?" At Sherry's nod, Dean escorted her to the Impala. Opening the door for her he got her settled.

Sliding into he front seat, Dean waited for the girl to get her bearings, luckily they'd come pretty much straight here. Doling out the directions for the man who'd yet to introduce himself, Sherry realized the difference between this stranger's car and the last. For some reason this car seemed like a safe haven.

Sherry had almost fallen asleep, when the big car was pulled over onto the shoulder of the road. Sherry roused herself, and followed the young man toward her abandoned Bug.

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Dean sighed as he watched the young girl pull out onto the roadway. He carefully wiped his hands on an old rag and gathered the tools that sat by his feet. Luckily the VW's fuel injector had simply stuck, flooding the engine. Dean had gotten the car started again, and had shown the young girl what to do if it happened again. He'd advised her to head straight out of town, and to not stop until she reached her friend's place. Watching as the car's lights dimmed and then disappeared, Dean got into the Impala.

Heading back toward the motel, he felt a moment's peace. Tonight he'd made a difference, oh maybe not earth shattering, maybe he hadn't saved the world, but he'd made a difference. For Dean that was a good, day, a day in which he knew that his actions had saved a life. Yeah, thought Dean, a good day.


	8. Chapter 8

Pulling into the Motel, he circled the line of rooms and moved toward the back, grateful that they'd gotten a room that was hidden from the roadway. He felt secure that the police would be unable to find him. The Impala had been parked on the far side of the entrance to the bar, and he had no reason to think that anyone had noticed it. As Dean parked, he frowned at the sight of Sam seated on the porch, long legs spread in front of him, door to the motel slightly open.

Sam stood quickly as he took in his brother's appearance. He now sported not only the bruise that Catherine had given him, but also a cut over his eyebrow. The cut was weeping blood and his eye was beginning to swell. "Dean, what happened?"

Dean moved to the open door and looked in on Cat, she was sleeping. Dean smiled softly, as always when she slept alone; she lay right on the edge of the bed, ready at a moment's notice to roll off and take on whatever was coming. She managed to make the twin look like a queen. Dean pulled the door closed and took the seat opposite from Sam. Leaning back he sighed tiredly, huh; imagine that, Dean thought, he was finally tired.

Settling his gaze on the parking lot in front of him, Dean told Sam about what had happened at the bar. As he finished he waited, expecting Sam to rant and rail over Dean playing the hero, risking the attention of the police. Instead, Sam surprised him by walking into the room.

Dean watched him walk in, and was dumbfounded for a minute. He'd expected to catch a ration of shit for the way he'd behaved, not the cold shoulder. Dean's surprise eased as he watched Sam come back out of the room.

Sam walked into the hotel room and quietly gathered the medical kit he'd used earlier. Taking it back out on the porch he pulled his chair closer to Dean. Leaning up he began cleaning the wound on Dean's forehead with alcohol. Ignoring Dean's wince, Sam said, "Do you think he'll stop? Abusing girls, do you think he'll stop?"

At Dean's shrug, Sam nodded. "He can't do it if he's in jail right?" Sam asked innocently a smile beginning.

Dean's answering grin was answer enough. "Yup, that'd do it. You got something in mind, Sammy, boy?"

Sam simply grinned. "I'll see what I can do. You feeling better?" Sam asked, noticing Dean's relaxed posture.

"Yeah, well you know me. Kicking the shit out of something always puts the happy in my day." Dean smiled and clamped a hand on Sam's shoulder. Standing, Dean held out a hand and pulled Sam to his feet. "I know I'm ready to get some sleep. We'll be at Bobby's by tomorrow night."

Sam nodded, and said, "Sounds good to me."

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Dean stripped down to his shorts and a clean tee-shirt. Pulling back the sheets, he slid into bed next to Catherine careful not to disturb her. Lying on his side he took in the sight and scent of her. He'd missed her more than he'd allowed himself to admit.

As he lay in the quiet room, listening to Catherine's soft breathing and Sam's slightly faster snore. He began to drift off, reaching out for Catherine, he felt her moving into his arms. Like magnets their bodies came together to offer the comfort they both needed.

Sam awoke to early morning sunshine, streaming through the gap in the curtains. Stretching slowly he worked his shoulders, trying to ease the stiffness that had crept in during the night. Hunting was a hard life and left him feeling beat more often than not. Sometimes when he allowed himself to imagine a life at fifty he wondered if he wouldn't be crippled by pain. Too many punches taken, too many given, Oh well, thought Sam, such is life, or at least his life.

Sam glanced at his watch and noticed the hour, suppressing a groan; he looked over at the bed beside him. Catherine and Dean still slept, their bed having missed the sunlight that was causing Sam's eyes to water. Catherine lay as usual in a sprawl on top of Dean, a sheet almost completely covering her.

Sam finally acknowledged that he didn't stand a chance of getting back to sleep; instead he opted for a shower and coffee instead. Rising quietly, he grabbed a change of clothes out of his bag and headed for the bathroom. Sam reached into the shower, carefully adjusting the spray. As he undressed he allowed his thoughts to wander.

Stepping under the hot spray, he found himself wondering what Hannah was doing. If she still remained at Bobby's or if she'd left to go home to Vegas. Hannah owned a rooming house in Vegas; they had been visiting her when Catherine and Sam had been taken by a demon.

Hannah was a year older than Sam; her hair was so blond it could be called white. Her eyes were large and green, her nose small with a slight uplift at the end. Small and petite she was all feminine softness. Hannah and Catherine had known each other for some time; Hannah knew only that Catherine was a hunter. She wasn't aware of Catherine or Sam's for that matter, special powers. Sam had only recently found out about her power, psychic persuasion.

Hannah was one of the children, like Sam and Catherine. At first he'd been mad as hell at Hannah and Catherine for keeping it a secret, but now looking back he understood. Sam really liked Hannah, she'd known he was a hunter and she'd understood he wasn't able to make a commitment.

Reminding himself to call her later in the day, he shut off the shower and began toweling off. Wrinkling his nose at the scent of limes, Sam also made a mental note to hit the store.

They were going to have to head into town anyway in order to snag Catherine some clothes. As Sam quickly brushed his teeth and shaved he reminded himself to look into the dirty councilman's background.

Sam intended to have that cleared up before they left. Sam was confident that he would be able to turn up something on the man. After all, men like that don't often bother to cover their tracks well, they just assume that no one will question them.

As Sam exited the bathroom he noted that Dean remained alone in bed. Catherine sat in a chair by the window, dressed in an old pair of Dean's sweats, and the blue flannel shirt. She held a cup of coffee in her hand and pointed to another that sat in front of her.

Raising his brows in question, Sam grinned and picked up the steaming cup. Catherine motioned toward the hotel door, and they both left the room, content to watch the day begin from the worn out front stoop.

Sipping his coffee and wincing, Sam asked, "Where'd you get coffee, you don't even have shoes?"

Catherine grinned and said, "I walked over to the office, they had a pot going." Seeing Sam wince, Catherine apologized. "Sorry Sam, they had no cream and sugar. Only sludge in a pot."

Sam nodded, and said, "Dean'll be in heaven, this stuff is strong enough to fuel the car." Sam glanced at Catherine, happy to see that she seemed relaxed and content.

The two hunters sat for a while on the porch. Enjoying the early morning quiet, finally Sam stood and retrieved his laptop. With a grin he related Dean's adventure of the night before.

"Leave it to Dean, to go out for a fun filled evening of booze and pool and instead end up rescuing some hapless young girl," Catherine said.

"Hey, now you're not disparaging the Clover are you, that was a fine upstanding establishment. Full of all the amenities one could wish for," Dean said, as he walked out in a faded pair of jeans and a tee-shirt, coffee clutched in one hand as the other ruffled his short hair. Moving toward Cat he handed her his coffee and swung her up and into his arms. Settling down into the chair with her in his lap, he took the coffee back, and said, "Get anything yet Sam?" Sipping his coffee he leaned back, arm wrapped around Cat.

"Yeah I think so, Is this the guy." Sam turned the computer toward Dean. At Dean's confirming nod Sam grinned. "Well, then I think I can manage something."

Dean smiled at Sam's delighted look. "You're the man, Sammy. So who's up for some breakfast, I'm starved?"

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Dean glanced over at the bed, where Catherine was once again, sound asleep. Originally the plan had been to gather up, check out and find food and clothes for Cat. Not necessarily in that order. It had taken only moments for the boys to realize that although Cat was willing, her body wasn't. It had taken Sam the better part of a half-hour to convince Cat that she should stay at the hotel, resting while Sam took care of breakfast and clothes.

Well, to be honest Sam had spent part of that time convincing Dean that it was better if he stayed hidden until they left town. Dean hadn't wanted to give in, but when it seemed as if it was the only thing that would keep Cat here, he'd given in.

Dean sat cross-legged in the middle of Sam's bed, their varied assortment of guns and knives surrounding him. He was in the process of sharpening his favorite knife when Sam struggled through the door weighed down by bags. Dean moved off the bed, to help and was surprised by the sheer number of bags.

"What the hell, Sam, did you buy out the Salvation Army?" Dean asked, as he began rifling through the bags. Noticing that there were as many men's clothes as woman's.

"It's half-price Wednesday Dean; I picked up a couple new shirts for you and a new pair of jeans. Also, I managed to find a couple pairs for myself," Sam said, as he watched Dean unpack the bags. Sam reached out and grabbed the one bag, marked with a department store name. Dropping the bag on the foot of Catherine's bed, Sam said "I picked up some new under things for Cat."

Catherine struggled up from the bed, a weary smile on her face. "Did someone say new clothes?" Catherine reached out and snagged the bag at the foot of her bed. Reaching inside she raised a brow in surprise, looking up at a now blushing Sam, she teased. "Jeeze, Sam, nice choices. I never would have figured you'd be so capable at picking out ladies underwear." Catherine pulled out a black camisole and a pair of underwear. Motioning at Dean to throw her the other bags she rifled through until she came across a pair of jeans.

Standing slowly, her shoulder paining her, Catherine moved toward the bathroom. As Dean moved to accompany her, Catherine shook her head, and said, "I got it, Dean, you eat. I'll be out in a minute."

Dean frowned for a moment close to arguing, until he saw just how weary she looked. Nodding, he stepped back and began opening the bags of food Sam had brought. A half-hour later and Dean was ready to kick down the door, knocking once again he called out, "Cat, come on the food's already cold."

Finally, the door opened and Catherine emerged. Looking pale and drawn, she walked shakily toward the bed and lay back down. "Not hungry," were the words she murmured as she fell back to sleep.

Sam turned to Dean and said, "Let's get going. We need to get her to Bobby's." Dean nodded and the two set about loading the car. A half-hour later, ready to go, Dean quickly reached down and lifted Cat into his arms. Walking out to the car he settled her into the back seat. Moments later, the car roared to life and was headed back to the highway. Dean and Sam both glad to be on the road once again.

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Dean was worried, as he pulled into Bobby's salvage yard he glanced once again in the rearview mirror. Catherine had slept almost straight through, waking only for a few minutes at a time. She hadn't complained about anything specific but then that was really no surprise. As the black car rolled up in front of the house, the porch light came on and Bobby came out. His rifle in hand, the aged hunter smiled grimly and waved at the boys.

"Hey boys, do me a favor and show me your medallions," Bobby said, raising his rifle slightly. Dean grinned as he pulled out his necklace and showed the tiny medallion to Bobby. Bobby grinned and said, "Welcome, Dean."

Sam went to get his out of his pocket when he remembered he'd given his to the nurse back at the hospital. Slightly nervous Sam called out, "I don't have mine Bobby; I had to give it to Nurse Post. She was being possessed."

Bobby frowned, and said, "Caroline was being possessed, Damn. Well that's fine, Sam, just stay there for a moment."

Sam stood hands in his pocket and watched as Bobby came closer. Sam never saw the flask of holy water Bobby held in his hands until the water hit Sam in the face. "Damn, Bobby, you soaked me," Sam said, as he wiped the water from his face. Listening to Dean snicker he asked, "Am I okay to pass or would you like to throw something else at me?"

Bobby nodded seriously, and said, "Go on in, Sam, and remind me later to get you a new medallion." As Bobby watched Sam trudge through the front door, he turned and winked at Dean. "Couldn't resist giving him crap."

Dean laughed out loud and relaxed for the first time in a long time. "Cat's been sleeping all day, Bobby, if her room's ready I'll take her right in." At Bobby's nod, Dean lifted Cat out of the car and carried her into the house.

He felt the tension return as Catherine continued to sleep even after he'd set her down and gotten her stripped down to her black camisole and underwear. After, tucking her in he left a light burning and stepped out into the living room.

Taking the recliner, Dean sat wearily thanking Bobby for the beer he handed him. Bobby settled across on the couch and Sam came out a few minutes later, shrugging into a new shirt. "So" Bobby asked, "Do one of you want to tell me what the hell happened? I wasn't expecting you for at least a week."

Dean leaned back and allowed Sam to fill Bobby in. As Sam talked, Dean kept finding his glance moving towards Catherine's bedroom, finally he stood and gave in to temptation. Using the excuse to check up on her, Dean said goodnight to Bobby and Sam. Opening the door, he was surprised to see Catherine's eyes open. "Hey, Katie, how'd you sleep?"

Catherine grimaced and said, "Not bad. How's Bobby?"

Dean grinned and moved to lie next to Cat, pulling her into his arms, he said, "You know Bobby, he's prepared to say the least." Dean felt Catherine's laugh and smiled. Content for the moment, he found himself closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

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"You boys do what you feel is right, but I'm telling you now, you can tell her. I've had enough of her tantrums to last a lifetime, I'm not willing to suffer another for you two." Bobby scowled as he poured himself a cup of coffee. He glanced toward the papers spread out on the kitchen table. Nodding in approval at the concise way the information was arranged, Bobby felt admiration for just how well John had taught his boys. "Looks like a simple salt and burn," Bobby said, as he continued to peruse the information.

"Yeah, we figure if we head out in an hour we'll be back by tomorrow afternoon," Dean said, as he leaned against the counter. "Cat'll understand, she's in no condition to leave. But we can't just sit back and ignore the fact that people are getting killed. Besides, we'll only be gone a day."

Sam was a bit more skeptical about just how understanding Catherine would be. They had been at Bobby's for little over a week and she'd become like a bear with a sore paw. Snappy and downright mean, Sam had chosen to limit the amount of time he spent with her. Dean seemed to be the only one not affected by her attitude. He ignored it outright, treating her as he always did.

Sam began fumbling with the papers on the table as he heard the familiar tread in the hallway. Sam only stopped when Dean reached out and placed a hand over Sam's stopping him from hiding the evidence of a hunt.

Catherine walked into the kitchen on slightly unsteady legs. The blow that had caused the scar on her forehead had also caused a pretty major concussion. Cat was only now getting her equilibrium back not to mention she was still suffering headaches and nauseas. Stumbling only bit, she reached up with her good arm, biting back a moan at the flare of pain in her ribs and grabbed out a coffee cup from the cabinet. Turning towards the coffee pot, she set about pouring herself a cup. Not an easy feat with the way her fingers were bound.

Dean watched Cat suffer for a moment, knowing that she'd take an hour if necessary rather than ask for help. Finally, not able to stay out of it any longer he carefully eased her away from the counter and prepared the coffee to her liking. Moving her firmly towards a chair, he pushed her down until she sat. Handing her the cup, he waited brow lifted for the tirade he knew would be forthcoming.

Catherine glared at Dean, she hated being coddled. The three men in her life continued to insist that she wasn't capable of performing the simplest of chores. What really set off Cat's temper though was the fact that they were right. Catherine was about to lay into Dean for his heavy handed ways when she noticed the paper on the table in front of her.

Rifling through she quickly got a handle on the information. Looking at the three hunters she asked, "What are we hunting?"

Dean jumped in with both feet, figuring it was better to get it over with rather than try and soften it. "Sam and I are heading out. It's a simple salt and burn, a couple hours away. We figure we'll be back tomorrow." It was only because he was waiting for a reaction, Dean noticed the tears flood Catherine's eyes.

Catherine felt pain lance through her, she hated this feeling of helplessness. Sam and Dean were going to go off and leave her. Hunt without her, because she just wasn't strong enough to keep up. She knew she had a choice, she could fight it and they would leave anyway, or she could act the grownup and let it go.

Catherine thought back to the past week. She knew from talking to Bobby and Sam that Dean had managed to busy himself all week, by tuning up the Impala and even doing some work on the Wagoneer. She also knew that the enforced inactivity was killing him, and even Sam to a lesser degree. Catherine nodded decision made; she pushed herself up from the table and left the kitchen, tossing a "good luck" over her shoulder as she left.

Sam watched in amazement, looking at Dean with a grin, he was surprised at the sadness on Dean's face. Sam wondered if it was the idea of leaving Cat for even a short time or if it was the fact that she hadn't fought them that bothered him.

Dean watched as Catherine turned to leave the kitchen, he understood how she felt. The feeling of helplessness, trapped in a body that wouldn't respond like it was supposed to. He could still remember how weak and useless he'd felt after being electrocuted. Dean watched until Cat was out of sight and then turned towards Sam. "Let's get moving Sam, the faster we take care of this thing the faster we'll get home."

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"Dig faster, Sam, Shit," Dean exclaimed, as he fired off another shotgun blast, catching the spirit in a spray of rock salt. Dean watched the apparition fade and chided Sam again, "Come on, Francis, with those gorilla arms you figure you could dig a little faster."

Sam could feel the sweat rolling down his back as he again and again threw shovelfuls of dirt over his shoulder. Ignoring the words coming from Dean, he ducked slightly as another blast echoed above him. Muttering, Sam kept shoveling. "Easy salt and burn. No problem. In and out." Finally Sam struck the coffin with his shovel. Using the shovel to break open the rotted wooden coffin he quickly struggled up and out of the hole.

Rolling out onto the ground just as Dean shouted, "Duck." Sam scrabbled over the ground. Pouring gasoline and salt over the coffin he'd just unearthed. Dropping a lit match into the grave, Sam felt Dean grab him by the coat and haul him a few feet away. Looking at the spirit that was now burning in the spot that Sam had just occupied, Sam sighed and sat for a moment.

Dean slid down next to Sam and took a seat. "See that Sammy, simple salt and burn."

Sam felt his temper flair; staring at Dean in amazement, he said, "Simple salt and burn, Dean. This is the third grave we've dug this week. This week, Dean, we were supposed to be back at Bobby's almost five days ago. You look as if you tangled with a bobcat and lost and I don't think I'll be able to lift my arms again for a least a month."

Dean rested for a moment, his face covered in scratches from the spirit they'd dealt with yesterday. The bastard had managed to cause a door to splinter sending shards of wood, towards Sam and Dean. Dean had managed to push Sam down in time but had taken the brunt of the damaged himself. Luckily none were serious and as Sam had pointed out at least he hadn't lost an eye.

"Aw, come on, Sam, you wussing out on me. Let's get our gear and haul. I'm more than ready to head back to Bobby's" At Sam's nod, Dean stood and offered a hand to Sam. Pulling him to his feet, Dean slapped a hand on his back and grinned. "We're just a little rusty Sam, we'll get back in the groove."

Sam grinned tiredly at Dean's understatement. To say they were a little rusty was a joke. Their reaction times had just been a bit too late, at every moment on this hunt. They'd become used to having a third partner, Cat had always pulled her weight and then some. Neither hunter had realized just how much they depended on her. Another pair of eyes, another gun ready and extra pair of hands to shovel. Without her everything had just seemed off. Sighing Sam climbed into the Impala and sent a wish heavenward that they'd have her back soon.


	9. Chapter 9

Bobby climbed to his feet, stretching the muscles in his back, and cursing roughly. He was getting too damn old for this shit. Moving back and around to the raised hood of an old Ford pickup truck, he heard the sound of an engine. Shit, thought the hunter. They weren't supposed to be back until morning.

Bobby grabbed his rifle and hightailed it around the house, moving quickly and silently he approached the Impala just as it pulled up in its customary spot. As he stopped, he leveled the gun, pointing it toward the two men who were now wearily climbing out. Both held the medallions he'd given them, in their raised hands. Bobby took aim anyway. Ignoring the surprised looks on both the young men's faces Bobby kept his aim steady.

Dean smiled nervously, he appreciated Bobby's efforts to keep Catherine safe but this was going a bit overboard. Smiling, Dean asked, "What's up, Bobby?"

Bobby practically snarled, "What's up, Dean, what's up. You take off and leave me with her for a week and that's what you say. What's up?" At Dean's grimace Bobby, let out a sarcastic laugh. "Oh, yeah you're in a load of shit, and I'm done shoveling it for you. If I wanted to be miserable in my own home I would have married years ago. Now, I have finally, gotten her calmed down. And you two can just take yourselves off for a while. She's not expecting you back till morning."

Dean and Sam exchanged confused looks; Sam started forward but paused as Bobby took a bead on him. Hands held up in surrender, Sam said, "Bobby, just let us talk to her. We can get her calmed down, she'll understand" Though Sam said the words, he found himself wondering if they would be able to make it up to Catherine.

"Oh no you don't, this week has been a total nightmare. I've finally got her calmed down enough to cook some dinner. Now, she's already got the steaks on the grill and I've waited long enough. I'm not about to let you two upset her again. Hell, at least not until my steak is done. I deserve some compensation for putting up with her, while you two were off kicking up your heels," Bobby's voice held no hint of laughter. His gun remained leveled on the Winchesters.

"You can let them come up, Bobby, they already look as if something kicked their ass. I don't need you to finish the job. By the way dinner's on the table. I'm heading to bed," with these words Catherine turned and went back in the house.

Bobby shot an evil look at the two younger men and hurried in after her. Dean and Sam shrugged and wearily grabbed their duffels out of the car. Moving into the house, Dean dropped his bag and said, "Go see if you can manage to wrestle some dinner from Bobby. I'm gonna go see Catherine."

Sam grinned wickedly and picked up Bobby's rifle that leaned next to the front door. Holding it out to Dean, Sam said "You might not want to go in there unarmed. Mr. IgowhereIwant whenIwant."

Sam laughed as he flung Dean's hastily spoken words back at him. Still laughing at the murderous expression on his brother's face, Sam turned toward the kitchen, looking forward to a real meal.

Dean turned and headed for Catherine's room. Pausing at the door, he shifted his feet uneasily. He'd known all along he would have to pay the price, for the hunt taking so long. He could only hope that she would understand. Oh well, here goes everything, thought Dean, as he knocked on the door.

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Sam walked into the kitchen, pausing at the doorway for a moment. Taking in the food that loaded down the table, he found it hard to believe that Catherine hadn't known they were on their way back. Sam chuckled as he watched Bobby hover over his plate, like a dog with a bone.

Sam lifted a brow and said, "You planning on eating it all, Bobby, or can I get a bite."

Bobby grunted and offered a small smile. Pushing out a chair with his foot, he nodded at the younger hunter to help himself. "Sorry, Sam, but, damn that girl's been out of control. The first night you didn't show, came and went and she seemed okay. But the day after, whew, she was in her car and ready to come after you. The only thing that stopped her was the fact that she kept puking. And she's only gotten worse. I mean I love her to death but I'm thinking about kicking the three of you out of here until she's on the hunt again."

Sam picked up his plate and started dishing up food, steak, potatoes corn on the cob. Taking a seat, Sam quickly began cutting his steak. "Yeah, well listen, Dean, was no joy either. And this job what a nightmare. We ended up having to salt and burn three different corpses in three different counties. I don't think he's slept since he left. So how's the patient, any better?"

Bobby nodded. "Yeah, she really is. She's still a bit weak and the headaches haven't stopped completely but she's on the mend. Her shoulder is going to take a while though. You two planning on hunting again, because I really don't think I'll be able to hold her back this time."

Sam nodded and began eating, sighing in pleasure, he exchanged grins with Bobby. "Next time I interrupt a meal like this you have my permission to shoot, Bobby. She should give up hunting tomorrow and open a restaurant, she'd make a fortune."

Bobby nodded. "It's a God given gift, Sam, and your brother should keep it in mind." Bobby took another huge bite of potatoes and chewed. "Any woman that can cook like this, and shoot like Catherine is a keeper, even if she is a bit prickly."

Sam raised a brow at Bobby as he heard Dean calling out again to Catherine. "A bit prickly, Bobby?" Sam and Bobby grinned at each other. Toasting their beers, they both resumed eating.

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Catherine heard the knock and ignored it. She had no intention of talking to Dean tonight, her temper was simply too close to the surface and she feared what she would say in anger. Nope, she thought as she heard him call to her again. She'd get some sleep and in the morning she'd be able to pretend that she hadn't spent the whole week breaking down like some spoiled brat.

That was Catherine's plan right until she heard and felt the door, being kicked in. Catherine moved from the bed, and turned to face Dean. He stood in the doorway, the frame around him splintered from the kick. For a moment all Catherine wanted to do was move to him, to wrap herself in the heat that poured off of him. She took a hesitant step, and saw a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. It was that gleam that stopped her. Instead, she retreated towards the other side of the bed, out of the way of temptation.

"What gives you the right to come in here, Dean? I made it quite clear I wasn't interested in talking to you right now," Catherine said in a cold voice.

Dean's eyes glowed even hotter. "Well, I'm pretty sure you gave me the right the first time you invited me into your bed." Dean took another step toward her closing the distance between them.

At his words Catherine lost all grip on reality. She had spent the last week, scared to death for him, unable to help, and in almost constant pain. Lashing out, she said, "No, Dean, you got an invite into my bed. That's no commitment, you of all people should know that."

The instant the words were out Catherine regretted it. She wasn't being fair and she knew it, Dean had been committed to her in every sense of the word since they'd met. She'd never asked for anything more and honestly she didn't want more. She stood watching his face close up, all sign of emotion gone. As he moved to leave the room, Catherine was by his side in an instant.

Reaching up with her good hand, she placed her palm against the side of his face. Gently she brought his head up to look at her. She was relieved when he didn't push her away. "I'm sorry, Dean, I was trying to hurt you. You've been nothing but honorable and forthright with me and I love that. I'm not looking for more from you. I'm just tired and feeling useless and I took it out on you."

Dean closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the caress of Catherine's hand. Her words had cut; it killed him to know that they would most likely never have a life together. Even if he could throw everything else aside, he couldn't even offer her his name. He had nothing of value to offer her, nothing. "Katie, if things were..."

Catherine cut him off, "Dean, look at me." Once his green eyed gaze was focused on her she continued, "You've given me so much, things that I thought I'd never have. You're forgetting that I was alone, before you. I lack for nothing in my life; as long as I have you to love me. What we have is so much more than I thought I'd ever have. You gave me a family, a brother, every time I wake up in your arms, I send a thank you to the fates that brought us together. I don't need more, I never have and I never will." Catherine reached up and pressed a hesitant kiss to his lips. Feeling him respond she deepened the kiss.

Dean heard the words and knew the truth in them. Catherine wasn't like most woman, her goals in life had never included a home and hearth. But Dean also knew that someone like Cat deserved it, she deserved a passel of kids that would thrive in the love she had to give. She deserved PTA meetings and a mini van.

Deep down though, Dean knew that Cat had long ago lost the chance for that normal life, and like Dean, she had never wanted it. Dean closed his eyes for a moment, some things were never meant to be, and even if she deserved a different life, she hadn't gotten it. She'd gotten him and his gun and maybe in the long run, considering what she faced it was all she needed.

Responding to the kiss she pressed against his lips, Dean let himself go. This is what he'd missed and what he needed. The two of them together, giving and taking comfort, passion and heat. Dean pulled Katie against him, giving voice to just how much he loved and needed her. As she responded Dean lost all capability to reason, left with just feeling. He found that he couldn't regret his feelings for Catherine.

Dean carefully lowered Cat onto her bed, kicking off his boots; he shoved her bedroom door closed. Before he could join Cat, the door swung open again. He could feel Cat's laughter as he grabbed a chair that sat in the corner and blocked the door shut. "I don't know what you're laughing for; it's your fault I had to kick it in."

Cat reached up and pulled Dean down, smiling she kissed him breathless and whispered, "Next time try turning the knob, it works better." Dean ignored the laugh at his expense as he did his best to distract her.

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Sam sat in the living room, laptop open. Bobby was in his favorite chair, cat napping. It had been three hours since Dean had disappeared to go talk with Catherine. Sam grinned hopefully; the quiet was a good thing. If not Sam was in trouble, there's no way he'd be able to find Dean's body if Catherine had chosen to dispose of him.

Sam's thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of Dean, barefoot, dressed in a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt.

Dean ran his hands through his short hair and said in a distracted manner, "Any food left I'm starving."

Sam nodded and replied, "in the microwave, just heat it up." Sam watched as Dean padded out of the living room, his older brother seemed to be muttering to himself. Listening, Sam could hear him rummaging around in the kitchen. Moments later Dean emerged with three beers and a plate, he tossed a beer to both Bobby and Sam and sat.

Dean looked at the plate before him, not even noticing the food. His thoughts still jumbled from his earlier conversation with Catherine. Finally, in confusion he muttered to himself, "I would marry her if I could." Dean shook his head, it was just impossible. All other concerns aside he was a wanted man, Dean Winchester was a target, he couldn't afford a wife that would also become wanted just by association with him.

Sam watched as Dean seemed to study the steak and potatoes that heaped his plate, Sam's smile grew as Dean's frown intensified. Sam was about to tease him when he heard Dean mutter. The smile dropped off Sam's face and was replaced by astonishment. "What did you say Dean?" Sam asked, staring intently at Dean.

Dean looked up surprised to see that he had an audience. Bobby and Sam stared at him intently. Scrambling, Dean blurted, "I said that this marinade is good." Dean forked a large mouthful of steak in his mouth hoping to discourage Sam's questions.

Bobby took it a face value and began to extol the virtues of Catherine's tequila marinade. Sam on the other hand continued to look skeptical. Hoping to change the subject, Dean asked, "What are you looking at Sam?"

Sam knew a change of subject when he heard one, not wanting to push Dean too far, he answered. "I'm checking the area, looking for a hunt; Cat'll be on her feet soon."

Dean nodded over the knot in his throat; he knew that Catherine would be ready to hunt again. But that didn't stop him from wishing he could keep her locked up here at Bobby's safe and sound. Dean pushed away the image of Catherine broken and bleeding and concentrated on the food on his plate. After, a couple bites, Dean no longer had to force himself to eat. Eyes closed in ecstasy he listened, enraptured as Bobby continued to list the various ways that Catherine excelled in cooking.

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Catherine awoke alone and for a moment she was afraid that it had all been a dream. Rolling over, she glanced at the door to her bedroom and had to grin at the sight of the door hanging eschew. Making a mental note to always leave doors slightly ajar, to prevent an over zealous Dean from kicking them off their hinges, she moved slowly. Although she'd come far in the last week, her evening's activities had proved to be a bit much. She felt every one of her bruised ribs, not to mention her shoulder was aching in time to her heartbeat. Reaching out to the nightstand and grabbing the Motrin that sat by her bedside, Cat dry swallowed a couple. Laying back down, she glanced at her watch and noted that it was past ten o'clock in the morning.

Forcing herself to her feet, she slipped into a deep wine, terry cloth robe. Gathering a change of clothes, she headed for the shower, hoping to spend some time under a spray of hot water. As she passed the living room, she noticed Sam's leather computer bag resting on the recliner. A sheaf of papers were shoved haphazardly in the front of it.

Glancing around the room, Catherine drew out the papers and quickly leafed through. Shit, she thought to herself, a poltergeist seemed to be tearing up a local bookstore. Sam's information was well researched, Cat drew a breath. One person had already been killed and another wounded seriously.

Cat closed her eyes for a moment; they would be leaving again without her. Last night's activities showed her just how much healing she had left to do. There was no way she could go; she'd only end up being a liability. Catherine carefully placed the paperwork back in Sam's bag and turned to confront Dean who had walked up behind her.

"When are you leaving?" Catherine asked, moving toward him. As she stepped into his arms, she breathed in his scent. Holding on tight with her good arm, she stood for a moment, simply enjoying the contact.

"We were waiting till you woke up," Dean said, lifting Catherine's chin so he could look in her eyes. Dean felt a moment's peace when all he found was acceptance.

Catherine nodded and remained in his arms for a moment, pushing away the fear and the anger. She stepped away from him, looking over her shoulder with her best come hither smile, she said, "You're looking awful dirty; maybe you should get a shower before you leave."

Dean laughed and reached out, pulling her agasint him. Growling playfully he said, "I am feeling kinda dirty."

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Dean awoke in a panic to the familiar sounds of Sam having a vision. Dropping onto the bed next to his, Dean gripped Sam's shoulders. As Sam began to relax, Dean stood and got a washcloth from the bathroom, running it under the sink he wrung it out and moved back to Sam. Placing the cloth on the back of Sam's neck, Dean waited until Sam nodded. Sitting in the bed across from him, Dean waited patiently for Sam to get himself under control.

Finally, Sam swung his legs off the bed facing Dean. "It was a fire starter, Dean, a young guy. He's going to set a mall on fire. I don't know what'll trigger it, but it will kill hundreds of people." Sam lowered his head in his hands, feeling Dean reach out and grip him on the neck, Sam took solace in his brother's quiet comfort.

"It's alright, Sam, we'll stop it." Dean stood and began moving, quickly gathering their gear from the dingy motel room and packing it in their duffles. "You do know it could be a set up. I mean you haven't had a vision in a while. It may be a way from the demon to get to us."

Sam nodded and said simply, "We can't take the chance can we, Dean?"

Dean nodded in agreement and said, "Come on let's shag ass, we can swing by Bobby's before we head out."

Sam stood, moving to gather his stuff and asjed "Are you going to tell her, I mean it's been over a month, Dean, she's even begun training again."

Dean nodded again and said, "I know, I know, Sam." Dean looked up and Sam was surprised at the pain in his brother's eyes. "What if it is a trap, Sam, am I supposed to lead her to slaughter. I can't do it..." Dean's voice trailed off. Shaking his head, Dean said, "I won't do it. We'll head home stay the night. You can track the mall down and in the morning we'll tell her it's something simple. Hell, we've done enough hunts over the past month she won't think anything of it." Plan made Dean grabbed his bags and headed for the hotel door. "We'll keep her safe this time, Sam."

Sam wanted to protest, he knew what Dean was doing. But Sam also knew it was inevitable. Catherine would hunt again and nothing Dean said would stop her. His actions though, might cause him to lose her altogether. Sam shrugged, grabbed his bag and followed Dean to the car. He'd stick by Dean's decision, no matter the consequences.

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Catherine could feel Dean coming closer; he seemed to be in a hurry. She embraced the feeling glad that her powers were once again up and running. The lingering effects of the concussion had prevented her from being able to use both her telekinesis and her psychic magnetism. Both had been shoddy ever since she'd woken up in the hospital.

Lately though, Catherine had gotten stronger and stronger. Sending out a signal to Dean, loud and clear, she moved through the salvage yard toward the familiar run down Cadillac convertible. Sliding over the worn leather seats, Catherine rested her head against the seat as she watched the sun set.

Some time later she still sat, eyes closed. She felt the car rock gently as he settled beside her. Taking her into his arms, he pulled her against him. Ever since they'd first met, this car had held special memories. It had been here that Catherine had told him of her past, it had been here that Dean had come to accept his father and all he'd done.

Turning in his arms, laying her head against her chest she said simply, "Welcome home."


	10. Chapter 10

Catherine opened her eyes, staring up at the blanket of stars above her she sighed contentedly. A glance at Dean caused her contentment to flee. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

Dean grimaced and leaned his head back; resting it on the back of seat he studied the night sky above him. "Nothing, I'm just glad to be back."

"Dean, come on now, you know you can either tell me yourself or I can weasel it out of Sam. Whatever's going on I'd rather hear it from you." Catherine reached up and pulled Dean's head down to hers; kissing him lightly on the forehead she gazed steadily into his eyes.

Dean took a moment and studied Catherine in the dim light. In the last two weeks she'd begun to loose her lost waif look. The bruises had finally faded and the slight bump that her nose had acquired only served to accentuate her natural beauty. She'd begun training again and the sun had tanned her olive skin. Even her eyes had lost the pinched look; she seemed relaxed and confident once again. Dean found that now the moment had come he couldn't do it. Sam was right it wasn't for Dean to decide what she did with her life, anymore than she could control what he did with his. The most the two of them could hope is that their choices continued to run parallel. Making a decision he hoped he wouldn't regret, Dean sighed and said, "Sam had a vision, I'd had every intention of leaving you behind once again, but I just can't."

Catherine smiled and said, "Good, who's gonna keep you safe if you keep leaving me behind? I'm ready you know Dean, I'm strong and my powers are almost completely restored. If you had taken off, I wouldn't have been here once you returned."

Dean nodded in acknowledgment. "I know, Katie, I just wanted to keep you safe. But I guess that's just not possible."

Catherine smiled at Dean, a smile to light up the night. "What safer place could I be than at your side? We're going to be okay Dean, I know it. Now, why don't you fill me in?"

Dean pulled her close and kissed her softly, sighing he said, "We might as well head inside; Sam'll be relieved you know and honestly we could use Bobby's help."

Clapping her hands together Cat said, "Lead on, I'm ready to kick some ass."

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Sam looked up from the kitchen table and tried to hide the guilt he knew was plastered over his face. "What's up guys?" Sam asked, lowering his gaze once more to the laptop's screen in front of him.

Catherine moved toward Sam and dropped a kiss on the top of his shaggy head. "It's alright, Sam, he told me about the vision."

Sam released a pent up breath and reached up to squeeze Cat's hand. "Just for the record I was all for telling you."

Dean rolled his eyes at his younger brother and said "You know that's why the teachers always loved you Sam; you're such a suck up."

Sam smiled and said, "Better to be a suck up than to face Cat's wrath. I've gotten used to hot meals, I'm not about to piss off the hand that feeds me."

Cat laughed and poured herself a cup of coffee from the never ending pot that was on the kitchen counter. Calling out she said, "Yo, Bobby, we've got a pow-wow going in here. You game to kick a little demon ass?"

Bobby was in the kitchen in moments, a grin spreading over his hangdog face. "Little girl, I've been kicking demon ass long before you were born. I'm always ready."

In moments the four hunters, gathered around the table. Making plans and preparing for the coming hunt.

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The next morning found them once again gathered around the kitchen table, the remains of a huge breakfast spread out before them. Dean pushed back his chair and finished the last dregs of his quickly cooling coffee. "Everyone knows the plan right, once Sam and I are on the road there can be no contact. We have to assume that once we leave Bobby's we'll no longer be alone. Don't trust anyone and keep your medallions close."

Catherine stood and nodded. "We're ready, Dean."

Dean nodded and leaned in to kiss her gently, squeezing her hand he grinned. "Come on, Sam, let's go."

Sam stood quickly, dropping a kiss on Catherine's head as he passed by her. The two hunters quickly gathered their gear; pausing at the front door, the brothers took once last glance at Bobby and Cat. Nodding, Sam opened the door and headed out into the early morning light.

Cat paused for a moment, breathing deeply she said, "Here goes everything."

Bobby watched as the young hunter bolted for the front door, wrenching it open she quickly took the front stairs two at a time. Bobby moved forward, watching as she landed lightly on her feet. Without pausing Catherine moved toward the Winchester brothers.

Catherine moved forward allowing the anger she so often kept at bay, out. Giving voice to that anger she yelled, "Don't do it, Winchester. Don't you dare, you drive off this time and you'd better never come back."

Dean was standing before the open trunk stowing his gear. Whipping around, he answered, "You're going to stand there threatening me. I go where I want, when I want and I'll be damned if I'll let a woman tell me otherwise."

Sam stepped forward, hands held out in a placating gesture. "Cat, please, we're just worried. You're not strong enough yet. And we can't just sit by and let something bad happen, not if we can prevent it."

Catherine stumbled slightly, holding her arm tight against her side she said, "Just give me a little more time, a couple weeks, please." Cat continued weakly. "I just need more time."

Dean's jaw hardened. "You'll just slow us down, kiddo. You're a liability we can't afford, if you're powers were up to full strength that would be different. Right now though, you're useless to us." Dean turned his back, moving with purpose towards the driver's side door. Climbing into the already open door, he waited a moment for Sam to climb in and tore down Bobby's driveway.

Catherine stood watching the car disappear down the drive, lifting her hand to wipe the tears from her face. Finally, when she could no longer stand the silence she turned and made her way slowly up the stairs. Passing Bobby who stood on the porch, she entered the house in silence.

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Dean pulled out of Bobby's drive onto the main road in a cloud of dust and gravel. Once again he cursed the fates for the life he lived. He often found himself wondering what he'd done in his former life that was so awful. Must have been pretty bad, he thought, to have deserved the kick in the ass that Karma had dealt him this time around. Shaking his head, he reached out and flipped the radio on. As The Animals 'House of the Rising Sun' came on, Dean allowed the music to wash over him drowning out all thoughts and leaving only the emotions. The anger, fear and frustration, Dean took those emotions and channeled them into the steering wheel he gripped in his hands. Handling the car as if it was an extension of himself, he pushed it to its limits, they had places to be and things to do. And Dean for one just wanted it all over, for better or worse.

Sam glanced towards his brother, taking in the steely eyes and the clenched jaw, Sam wisely remained quiet. He knew Dean well enough to know that his brother was in no mood for small talk. Sam leaned his head back on the leather and closed his eyes, trusting Dean to keep them safe; he allowed his thought to wander. Turning the plan over and over again in his mind, Sam worked out all the different possible scenarios.

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Catherine moved back into the house and went straight for the kitchen; she had hours to kill and knew she needed to keep busy. Gathering up the dirty dishes, she began scrubbing the kitchen clean as if her life depended on it. Who knows, she thought to herself, maybe this time it did.

Bobby watched as Catherine strode past him and into the house, his heart saddened and angered by all that had happened and all that was coming, he retreated as always to his research. Determined to arm, Catherine and the Winchesters to the best of his ability, Bobby began pouring through his collection. Forty years he'd been hunting, and over that time demons had become his specialty. It had to count for something. Bobby thought to himself, he'd make it count.


	11. Chapter 11

Hiding in the shadows of the trees just outside of Bobby Singer's salvage yard, the black eyed woman carefully watched the scene unfolding before her. Stepping forward in anticipation, she wanted to crow aloud with success. A glance at the ground in front of her, had her scrambling backwards with a snarl.

Damn Singer and his pathetic charms, unable to completely prevent demons from crossing onto his property he'd managed nonetheless to conjure a warning system. If she so much as put a hair over the line, he'd know it. Not matter, thought the tall, blonde, athletic looking woman, the aged hunter was of no real concern.

No, her only concern was the brothers. After her failed attempt at destroying the First, she'd quickly left behind not only the town of Green Haven but the body of the child she'd possessed. The woman ran her hands down her toned body; she'd picked this one up a couple towns over and was pleased with it. She figured she might stay awhile; Susan had a body that rocked and a psyche that had allowed the demon to take over with no resistance.

Susan returned her attention back to the scene in front of her. She watched as the car pulled out in a cloud of dirt and noise, grinning broadly she turned and began jogging towards the highway. Not surprisingly, she thought to herself, the brothers had taken the bait. Leaving the only one that could possibly protect them behind they'd predictably set out to rescue yet another worthless life.

Well, they'd learn someday, preferably while she was ripping their hearts out of their bodies. As she distanced herself from the yard, she began laughing to herself. Yes, this was it, her big shot. She'd show Daddy that she was the chosen.

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Catherine entered her room, glancing at the clock. Good, she thought, six o'clock. She was right on schedule, she had enough time to shower and change before Bobby would be ready. A strange feeling had overtaken Cat; if she was anyone else she would have called it nerves. Really though, she thought it was probably anticipation more than anything. She'd been spent the last 7 years of her life hunting, it was all she'd known for a long time. It had taken close to two months for her to recover and she'd been inactive for the majority of it.. The urge to move through the night hunting something dangerous had become like an itch she couldn't scratch.

Catherine grinned to herself, soon enough, she thought as she grabbed out a pair of cargo pants, a black tee and her new boots. Heading for the shower, Catherine found herself humming.

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"Dean you're humming again," Sam said with laughter in his voice.

Dean glanced at Sam and was unable to stop grinning. "Can't help it dude, she is in rare form tonight. I'll tell you that girl's got great taste in music," Dean said referring to Catherine's power.

The Winchester brothers had dubbed Cat's power the 'lojack', referring to the tracking device found in cars. Catherine was able to track people and in some cases could actually draw someone to her. Since Dean had first met her they'd been connected, and without fail she'd been able to draw him toward her. She could block the power if she needed to, but most of the time she chose to stay connected.

The connection she chose to use was music, and to Dean it had become like an internal soundtrack for him. He'd come to know her moods and could often tell what she was doing, or thinking simply by the song that was running through his head at any given moment.

Dean grimaced for a moment, until she'd been injured that was. After that it had been horrible. For the longest time, it had been nothing more than static in his head that made his eyes ache. The worst, though, had been the moment she'd died, to Dean the sudden silence had been unbearable. As Cat had recovered, her gift had been random and unreliable at best. Dean out of necessity, had learned quickly how to push the sound away. Now though, Cat's powers were back and once again under control. "She's in the shower right now, so they'll be leaving in about a half-hour."

Sam glanced at Dean, he was hesitant to ask, but curiosity finally got the better of him. "How do you know she's in the shower?"

Dean grinned once again, "Dude, she's humming Bad Company's 'Feel Like Makin Love '. She always uses that one in the shower. She's fond of torturing me, you know."

"Ahhh, God Dean, don't tell me stuff like that." Sam reached out and switched on the radio, he quickly pumped up the volume to try and drown out Dean's laughter.

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"Let's haul ass, Cat. The nights a wastin'," Bobby shouted as he finished packing the last of his weapons in an old duffle. He strode out of the house and headed for Catherine's waiting Wagoneer. Throwing his bag in the back of the vehicle with the rest of their gear, he quickly climbed into the passenger side. He was aching to get moving, although he'd agreed to this plan that didn't mean he liked it. He could understand Dean's reasoning, but it sat wrong with Bobby to use the Winchester's as bait.

Catherine pulled the door to Bobby's house shut behind her and moved gracefully down the steps. Eager to be on the road, she hopped into the driver's side and pulled swiftly down the drive. As she did, she felt a moment's unease at the thought that something might be watching.

Pushing away the fear, she concentrated on the plan. Dean was right, if they were being watched there was very little chance that whatever was doing the watching would've hung around after the display they'd put on this morning. And if something was watching now there was no chance of her and Bobby sneaking out of the salvage yard, undetected.

Pushing her foot down on the gas, Catherine maneuvered the Wagoneer down the road. Picking up Sam and Dean easily, Cat headed north, her attention divided by the road in front of her and the small bundle of awareness in her head that was Dean. Grinning she began humming.

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Mark Peters eased his old Honda into a parking space and sat for a moment, hands resting lightly on the steering wheel. Here he was, he thought, a young guy that should have his whole future ahead of him. Instead, he was sitting in a parking lot contemplating his death and the deaths of hundreds of others. Mark leaned forward and rested his forehead against the wheel. He didn't want to die, and he surely had no reason to want to hurt anyone, but Mark was afraid that it was quickly becoming inevitable.

Of course injuring people was nothing new to Mark; he'd been dealing with it for almost three years now. It had been that long since he'd first set fire to his family home, unintentionally burning it to the ground. Luckily that time the burns had been minor and although the insurance money couldn't replace his family's memories, it had been able to replace the house.

The second time though, that was when he'd lost his temper. Yeah, thought Mark with a self deprecating laugh, he was no one you wanted to piss off. He'd been in a downward spiral and had managed to get plastered at a local bar. Already out of control he'd lost it completely when he'd seen his former girlfriend out and about with a new guy.

People had been injured that time, lots of people. The bar had become engulfed in flames in an instant. People would have died that time if it hadn't been for Mark; he'd gone back into the bar over and over again, pulling people to safety. The irony was that local paper had dubbed him a hero and the mayor had given him a shiny plaque.

Now, here he was staking out the local mall to try and determine if the dreams he'd been having would come true or if they were just a figments of his battered mind. The dreams had started about a month ago, vivid in detail. Mark awoke from every single one drenched in fear. Dreams that came true, impossible right, yeah, thought Mark, impossible, like being able to create fire out of nothing was impossible. Mark stared at his hands, snapping his fingers he studied the tiny flame for a moment before allowing it to wink out. Impossible.

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"Alright, Sammy what do we have?" Dean asked setting the gas pump to automatic fill. Stretching his arms above his head, Dean worked his shoulders, trying to ease the kinks that had settled into his back.

Sam handed Dean a cup of coffee and a donut and leaned against the hood of the car. Taking a sip of his own, he said "Mark Peters, age 25 and living in Jamestown, New York. The mall in question is the Chautauqua Mall. I'm telling you Dean this is such a set up, it was like trying to find porn on the internet. Every button I hit, led me to this kid."

Dean nodded. "Porn on the internet, do you do a lot of searches for porn, Sammy?" Dean shook his head in mock disapproval. Returning the gas pump to the island he quickly joined Sammy in the car, as the Impala roared to life Dean asked, "So, we're definintely being set up huh. You gotta wonder what this son of a bitch is doing to that poor kid, in order to make him burn down the local mall."

"So far, Mark's set fire to both his house and a local bar. Both times though I'm fairly certain it must have been an accident. The first fire was his house, it coincided with the time he would have begun gaining his power. You can bet, he never intended to set the place on fire. The second wasn't too long after, from all accounts he was the only reason that no one was killed. He got pretty beat up, rescuing people from the building," Sam said reading from the notes he'd taken.

Dean nodded. "Any clues to a time frame. I can't imagine whatever is setting us up, would jump the gun, but we still have at least ten hours before we hit Jamestown."

Sam shook his head. "I've got no clue. I can only hope we can stop the kid, along with everything else. I mean we're taking a real risk here."

"Don't see that we have much choice, Sammy, we gotta start taking the fight to this son of a bitch or we'll never be free. At least this way we walk in prepared, if we save the kid all the better." Dean hated the chances they were taking, hated knowing that they may have to sacrifice both Mark and the people of Johnstown. It went against every fiber in his body to allow the innocent to suffer but, they could only do so much. There best bet at stopping the fire was to stop the demon. "It's gonna be okay, Sam," Dean said hoping he sounded more convincing to Sam than he felt.

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Eleven hours later saw Sam and Dean checking into a Motel in downtown Johnstown, just minutes from the Chautauqua Mall. Sam watched as Dean shrugged off his coat and collapsed in a heap on the bright orange comforter that covered the twin bed. Dean had driven the entire way, leaving Sammy free to research. Sam moved towards Dean and quickly pulled the boots from his older brother's feet. He walked over to the shelf that held extra linens and towels and pulled down a spare blanket, gently covering Dean.

Sam quickly settled into the room, normally he and Dean were content to simply use salt for protection. This time though, Bobby had armed him with several charms and even a couple of protection spells. Sam had no intention of being caught unawares by whatever it was that had lured the Winchester brothers here to Johnstown.

Once the room was secure, Sam got cleaned up and crawled into bed. As tired as he was he found he was unable to settle his thoughts enough to sleep. Finally, out of desperation he said in barely a whisper, "Dean."

Sam watched Dean roll over to face him across the distance between their beds. "What's the matter, Sam?"

Sam shrugged and stupidly couldn't find the words, now that he'd woken Dean. "I just..." Sam found that he was unable to finish.

Dean took a moment and studied Sam in the dim light that shone from between the curtains. Seeing the unease on his brother's face, Dean strove to make his voice calm and sure. "They're on the way, Sam. She's already closer than I would have imagined possible. It's going to work, we're going to save the kid and we're going to get that son of a bitch demon. Get some sleep, God knows when we'll get another chance." Dean watched Sam's face for another moment, hoping that he'd been able to reassure Sam somewhat.

Sam nodded in the darkness and said, "She's close that does help. Makes it seem as if we're not so alone this time. Night."

"Night Sammy," Dean said wearily closing his eyes. Dean had driven seventeen hours today, straight through with only a couple of coffee breaks and one stop for dinner. He was beyond exhausted, and yet he lay there eyes closed, listening intently for the familiar snore of his baby brother before he allowed himself to finally drift off.


	12. Chapter 12

Dean rolled and stretched his sleep stiff muscles, even before he glanced at the empty bed beside him he'd known that Sam wasn't in here. Dean sat up the sheet and blanket pooling around his waist. Running a weary hand through his hair, he took a moment to concentrate on Cat and Bobby. Dean grinned, she must be exhausted Cat wasn't usually one to listen to Corn, but 'Freak on a Leash' was blaring through his head.

Dean glanced up blearily at the motel door, approval in his face at the symbol that Sam had drawn in chalk on the inside of the door. He was glad that Sammy had taken precautions last night, Dean had simply been too tired to bother. Unable to stall getting out of bed any longer, Dean swung his legs over the bed, elbows on his knees, head in his hands ignoring the sound of his brother exiting the bathroom.

"Good morning, Sunshine," Sam called out in a way too chipper voice. "You planning on getting out of bed today?" Sam grinned at Dean's low growl. Sam rubbed a towel through his shaggy brown hair and tossed it back in the bathroom. Grabbing the shirt that laid on the back of one of the chairs, Sam shrugged it on. Turning toward Dean once again, he noticed that his brother still hadn't moved. Sam frowned slightly, Dean wasn't exactly Miss Sunshine when he first awoke but it rarely took him this long to get going.

Sam moved toward Dean and asked, "What's up?"

Dean finally lifted his head and took in the concerned look on his baby brother's face. Dean pushed aside his thoughts and stood, "Nothing I'm just wrapping my head around what we need to do tonight. I don't know about you, but I plan on stopping this kid from turning the local mall into hell on earth."

Sam grinned and said, "I don't think you have to worry. Don't take this the wrong way, Dean, but, your girlfriend's a bitch."

Dean laughed aloud, "You know, Sammy, she'd take that as a compliment."

"I fully intended it to be one, that girl's as tough as nails," Sam said swatting at his brother. "Come on now, get it in gear. We got places to be."

Dean grabbed a change of clothes and headed into the bathroom. Dean was grateful to Sam for the reminder, his brother was right Cat was tough. He had never doubted her abilities as a hunter before, she'd been injured. It was only since, Dean found himself worrying. Pushing down his concerns, Dean set about getting ready for the coming day.

888

"Argh, Bobby you're going to have to finish the trip. I'm done in," Catherine said as she pulled onto the gravel shoulder of the two-lane blacktop.

Bobby sighed in relief, he'd been offering to drive ever since he'd woken up two hours earlier, Cat had staunchly refused. Knowing better than to interfere with the young hunter's push to prove herself, Bobby had kept silent. The last ten minutes though he'd caught her 'resting' her eyes a couple times. He had no interest in dying on some backwoods road in the middle of nowhere splattered on the front of a rig.

In moments, he was knocking on the driver's side door. He watched as Cat slowly climbed out and moved around the hood. He noted just how tired she looked. Although the young hunter kept protesting that she was right as rain, Bobby still found himself doubting that, she was quite as fit as she insisted.

As they both settled back, Bobby's hand reached for the radio and quickly flipped the channel to a local country station, lowering the volume he pulled back out on the road. After witnessing, Catherine's exaggerated grimace at his music choice Bobby said, "You know the rules, honey."

Catherine settled back, reclining the seat slightly. After reeling off a set of instructions to Bobby, she tried to get comfortable. As much as she loved her Wagoneer, Cat found herself desperately missing the Impala's wide bench seats, familiar smell, and the feel of the engine's growl. Oh well, she thought to herself, as long as the country music continued to play Cat figured she'd be asleep in minutes.

888

Sam glanced up at the apartment building in front of him. "Alright, he should be in number 1404. You ready?" Sam asked Dean who stood shoulder to shoulder with the younger man.

Dean nodded and moved forward towards the building's double front doors. "Let's do this." He called over his shoulder as he moved into the cool interior of the four-story building. Once in the entry Dean glanced around the room, moving at once towards a bank of elevators that stood against one wall.

Sam followed Dean with a sense of foreboding, how many times had he and his brother played this exact same scenario. Find the evil, find its source, question the survivors, destroy the evil, never simple and never easy but nothing more than what the men could handle. Never before had they knowingly walked into a trap. Sam took comfort in Dean's arrogant stance as they stood in the elevator; leave it to his big brother to be the bait on his own terms. Unconsciously Sam imitated Dean's stance.

As the elevator doors, pinged open Sam and Dean moved out and into the hall. Glancing at the room numbers that were located on each door, the brothers quickly found themselves in front of 1404. After exchanging one more silent glance with Dean, Sam reached out and knocked.

The brothers waited for a moment before they heard steps, coming towards the door. Dean felt a sudden urge to pull his gun; he tamped it down for the moment. Until he knew more, he would be better off appearing harmless. Dean glanced at Sam and snorted, harmless yeah right.

If Dean looked anything like Sam did right now, there was no way this kid would mistake them as harmless. Sam held his jaw clenched tight, his eyebrows were lowered, and to say that he was glaring was an understatement. Dean quickly elbowed Sam and raised a brow, when his brother focused his gaze on him. "Dude, ease up, or this guy's going to run screaming."

Sam's face under went an immediate transformation, suddenly his brow was smooth, his eyes were warm and his mouth bent up in a commiserating smile. Lifting a brow Sam asked, "Better?" Dean nodded and turned back towards the door, it was only once it began to open that he heard Sam's whispered "You wanna be the pot or the kettle." Dean found himself smiling as the door to the apartment opened fully.

Mark heard the knock at the door and was half-tempted to ignore it. The only reason he didn't was that he really didn't want to be alone anymore. Heading towards the door, hoping it was one of his buddies stopping by, he swung it open without thought. In the blink of an eye, he tried to shut the door once more, unfortunately, a large black boot insinuated itself in the crack and the door was shoved out of Mark's hands.

Mark bolted for the back of his tiny one bedroom apartment. Heading for the farthest point from the front door, the kitchen, Mark backed against the fridge. The sight of the two young men approaching warily made Mark want to scream in terror. Holding up his hands as if to ward off an attack, he said, "Please don't hurt me."

Sam and Dean exchanged somewhat startled looks. Sam held up his hands in a non-threatening way and said, "Easy Mark, we're not here to hurt you. We just wanted to talk." Sam watched as the young man eyed the hunters in doubt. Sam took a step back and gestured to Dean to do the same.

Mark watched as the man from his dreams, promised not to hurt him. "Who are you and what do you want?"

Again, Sam's hands came up slowly "We just wanted to talk, ask you a couple of questions."

Dean moved towards the kitchen counter and hiked himself up to sit on the counter top, hands folded before him he said, "We just want to talk about what you can do."

Mark moved away from the fridge, slightly. He tried to judge the distance between himself and the doorway, but knew better than to try to make it when the shorter man shook his head at him. Glancing once again at the tall brown haired guy Mark feigned. "What do you mean, I can't do anything."

Sam sighed; it's never easy he thought. "We already know what you can do Mark. We just want to talk to you about it. About the fires, about the Mall, we can help you if you'll let us." Holding out his hand, Sam continued, "My name's Sam and this is my brother Dean."

Ignoring Sam's outstretched hand, Mark said "I don't know what you're talking about. What fires, what do you mean the mall?" Mark's voice trailed off at the nearly identical exasperated looks on the two men's faces.

Dean spoke up, "What fires, well let's see. How about the one where, you burned down your parent's home. Or else the one where you set fire to that bar, we could talk about that one."

"Dean," Sam warned, trying again he said "Mark we know, we know that you can start fires, we know that you're 25. We even know that you're powers would have started almost two years ago and we know that you're going to have something to do with a fatal fire in the Chautauqua Mall." As Sam finished he noted that Mark's mouth hung open in shock.

"Holy Shit, who are you guys. Are you like mind readers or something?" Mark asked his eyes full of confusion.

"We're more the 'or something', now we need you to start talking. Think you can do that, Mark?" Dean asked his eyes never leaving the young man in front of him.

Sam watched as Mark blinked a few times. He seemed to be trying to gather his thoughts. Sam waited hoping that Mark would volunteer the information they needed rather than making the Winchesters, dig it out of him.

Mark finally dropped heavily down in a seat at the kitchen table. "One morning I woke up and accidentally set a trash can on fire. Just" Mark made a gesture with his hands. "Poof, you know. I was scared to death. The fire at my parent's house, I was asleep when that happened, I'm still not sure how it started. I spent the first six months, in constant panic, I was scared to sleep, and scared not to. Finally, after the bar incident I knew that I had to get control, or I might as well just give up altogether. So, I taught myself to control the power. Everything was going great, I mean I knew it was weird but hey who am I to question what can and can't be done. I just figured it was some genetic thing, you know something in my DNA that suddenly woke up."

Mark drew a shaky hand across his face, the palm of his hand rasping against the stubble on his jaw. "And then about a month ago, I began having dreams. Nightmares, they were terrible, just images flashing through my mind. Kids on fire, screaming in pain, people running in panic, stampeding each other in order to save themselves, I eventually realized that the place was the Mall downtown. Then about two weeks ago, the dreams became worse. This time instead of observing the chaos, I was part of it. I was standing at the first floor basin; people were running in every direction to try to get away from me. Except you Sam, you walked out of a crowd of screaming people, and shot me down."

Dean slid down from the counter and approached Sam who had paled visibly. "Is that what you saw, Sam. Is that your vision?" At his brother's solemn nod, Dean said, "Well, now we know. Mark, you won't go near the mall and Sam here won't shoot you, simple and easy, my kind of plan."

Sam looked over at his brother and rolled his eyes in frustration, the look was wasted though when Sam was unable to contain a snort of laughter. "Mark, is there anything else you can tell us?"

"Yeah," Dean asked, "Like maybe why you suddenly have an urge to burn down the local Food Court?"

Mark shook his head. "I've been over there everyday for the last couple days, and I still don't know why" Mark looked down at his hands, continuing in a soft voice "I do it. I mean I never loose control anymore. It never gets away from me now."

Dean listened intently as Sam and Mark began comparing versions of the vision. As Dean listened to the details, and filed the information for later use he began pacing. Never a fan of inactivity this conversation, although useful, was wearing on his patience.

Sam sat at the kitchen table, and listened to Mark recount his nightmare word for word. As he listened, his eyes were drawn towards Dean. His brother was well on his way to wearing a hole in the tired linoleum floor. Back and forth Dean paced, his steps taking him from in front of the kitchen door to the far wall.

Sam's head snapped up as something that Mark said registered with him. "Wait go back, the woman you saw was she a blonde, early thirties, good looking?" At Mark's confirming nod, Sam turned towards Dean in triumph. "She was in my vision also, she was praying."

Mark again nodded "Yeah that's right. She was the only one not running, she was probably too scared."

Dean stood by the window, looking out into the bright sunshine of the day, he voiced a thought. "Maybe, she wasn't praying Sam. Maybe the bitch was chanting." Dean turned towards Sam.

Sam's eyes alit with triumph, "She's going to control him somehow." Sam stated.

Suddenly the front door to the apartment flew open with a bang, a young attractive blonde stood poised in the doorway, a smile on her face. 'Well, well boys, you're quicker on the uptake than I thought."


	13. Chapter 13

Sam stood and faced the woman that stood framed in the doorway. Tall and blonde, her hair pulled back in a ponytail; she was pretty in an athletic way. Sam automatically moved to block Mark from her view. He had recognized her from his vision, and her appearance didn't bode well.

"Now, Sammy boy, what you got hiding back there, huh? You don't think that your protecting that boy from little old me do you? After all I'm the reason you're here, not him." The woman moved into the tiny apartment and with a flick of her wrist sent Mark careening head first into the bank of cabinets that lined the kitchen wall.

Sam winced at the sound of Mark's impact, a swift glance over his shoulder showed the boy was unmoving. Sam could only hope the poor kid was all right; after all, he was just a tool, being wielded by someone with a greater power. A glance out of the corner of his eye showed Dean backed against the kitchen wall hidden from the demon's sight. Sam watched as the woman advanced toward him, careful not to betray Dean's position. Sam knew he needed to distract her.

"What do you want?" Sam almost rolled his eyes at the ridicules question, as if the demon in front of him would just lay down her plans for him.

Susan stared at the young hunter for a moment and then shrugged, why not, she thought. "Well, I'm not here for you, Sammy, so you can just go ahead and relax. It's that beautiful brother of yours that's got me plotting and planning this time."

Sam closed his eyes, in fear for his brother. If a demon was specifically looking for Dean, the only explanation was that something somewhere had decided his big brother was some kind of threat or nuisance.

"Yeah, he's become a real thorn in the side for my Pops. I've decided to take him out as a present for the old man. Sibling rivalry can be a real bitch, I've gotta do something to stand out in the crowd." Again, Susan waved a hand.

Sam felt himself flying backwards, with a teeth rattling thump, he found himself pinned to the wall, next to the kitchen window.

"So, tell me, Sammy, where's big brother?"

Sam couldn't move any part of his body except his head, straining, trying desperately to free himself, he ignored the creature's question.

Susan stood in the doorway of the kitchen; poised in the opening, a smile overcame her features. "Did you know Sam that you are not to be killed; my father has specifically ordered it. That's like a get out of jail free card, you're safe."

Sam felt the pressure on his chest increase, until he found he could barely draw a breath. Trying not to pass out from the lack of oxygen, Sam stopped struggling.

"However, Sam, and I really hate to be the one to tell you this; I am allowed to torture you to the point of death. Just...Not...Over...It." With each word, the pressure increased until Sam could no longer draw air.

"Let him go, Bitch. If it's me you want, then here I am," Dean said stepping in front of the pretty blonde. Dean glanced over his shoulder at Sammy, gasping for breath as the demon's attention shifted towards Dean.

Susan stood a foot in front of Dean, reaching out she caressed his cheek and said, "Bitch, ohh that hurts Deano. Now, how come you Winchesters never talk nice? You boys are always trying to smart mouth your way out of trouble. I mean God; dear old Dad was cracking wise all the way to the bitter end."

Dean grinned and said, "Listen, I'm here, ready to go. Can we just get to the part where you try to kill me and I ruin your plans once again, and then send you back to hell. After all it's what I did to your sister, Meg."

Susan's eyes suddenly narrowed, moving towards the counter top she deftly hefted herself up, sitting much as Dean had earlier in the evening. "You're kidding right, Dean. You don't actually think I'm grieving here, I mean notice the absence of black. No, I'm glad you did what you did, after all that means there's one less to fight for my Father's favor. Now, let's see you also shot one of my brother's, that brings your tally to two. And your girlfriend Catherine managed to finish off another, boy you hunters have really become a nuisance."

Dean leaned against one of the kitchen chairs and glanced once again at Sammy. His color had returned and he was breathing normally, dropping him a wink Dean said, "Ouch, that's three to us huh, Sam. It's nice to know we're picking them off one by one."

Susan stared at Dean, anticipation lighting her features. "Actually, Dean, we've still got the edge in body count. After all, we've done in Mommy, Daddy and girlfriend Jess. And then there's Catherine's family and her two foster brothers'." Here Susan paused, making a see-saw gesture with her hand. "I'm not sure if the brother's count though, we only drove her foster parents insane, and they in turn killed the kids. So I'll be generous and take credit for six so far. I'll be making you number seven before I leave this place."

Dean tried not to flinch at the reminder off all that had been lost to the yellow-eyed Demon and his plans, instead he focused on keeping the demon talking, after all every second counted. "So is part of the torturing, me having to listen to your bullshit. Because I gotta tell you, it's a bit of a drag."

Susan slid from the counter top in a smooth motion, landing lightly on her feet she whipped her hand in Dean's direction sending him and the chair he leaned on into the wall behind him. Dean groaned and put a hand to his ribs. Good job Winchester, he thought to himself. Dean struggled back to his feet, and grinned. "Come on, admit it, you're gonna keep talking until I slit my own wrists, right, that's the plan?" Dean said with a wink.

Sam watched in frustration, he was unable to move and he was pretty sure that whatever she'd done had cracked or broken a couple of his ribs. Turning his head as far as he was allowed, he watched the woman cross the kitchen in a few strides. Sam called out to Dean, "Stop, Dean."

Dean squared his feet and glanced over at Sam, "its gonna be okay Sam."

Susan stopped in front of Dean and grinned, "Nothing in your miserable life has ever been okay, Dean, at least not since the day my Daddy paid your family a little visit."

Dean never saw the backhand that sent him crashing to the floor in a heap. Wiping the blood that flowed freely from a cut at the corner of his mouth, Dean pushed himself to his feet once more.

"Dean, you are one stubborn SOB. do you know that. But if there's one thing I know it's how to break someone." Leaning closer, Susan whispered in Dean's ear "Your girl, Cat, she's on the short list. Yup, she's going down. Daddy already did her in once, only this time she won't have you to pull her back from the edge. No this time she'll go sailing over it, and Sammy will be alone once more."

Susan turned towards Sam. Leaning over him she touched his cheek gently. "Imagine, Sam, the guardian, dead, the first and most powerful, dead, and your dear own brother, dead." Turning to Dean, the demon continued. "He'll have nothing left; he'll be alone in the world and vulnerable. And boy do we have big plans for little old Sammy."

Dean shook his head, trying to clear the fog in his mind. "What the hell is a guardian?" Dean asked absently, stalling.

Susan stepped back, and once again took a seat on the counter top. "Oh, please tell me you're kidding right. How have you managed so much mischief with so little information, the Guardian was your father. John was charged with the job of protecting the kids, he was your one shot at defeating my father. Imagine daddy's glee when John handed himself over without a fight."

Susan jumped off the countertop, landing lightly on her feet. Moving toward Dean, she grinned. "Well boys say goodbye to each other, I've wasted enough time on you, Dean Winchester."

With these words, a pain unlike any he'd ever experienced drove through Dean's forehead. It was as if a white-hot spike had been jammed between his eyes. Dropping to the ground unable to stifle his scream, Dean's hands flew to his head certain he'd feel blood dripping.

Sam watched Dean drop to his knees with a cry of pain; Sam struggled desperately against the invisible bonds. "Hold on, Dean, don't let go, Dean." Sam encouraged his brother repeatedly, no longer able to watch as Dean writhed on the ground. Instead, his gaze was focused on the front door of the apartment. He wasn't sure what it was he was feeling, but he was pretty certain that Catherine had arrived.

"This is so much fun, Dean. I'm going to give you a moment to catch your breath though." Speaking over her shoulder to Sam, the Demon continued, "This is where they like to beg, Sammy. You should really pay attention, for when your torturing someone, it really does take practice to do it right."

Dean felt himself swimming up into consciousness, the pain had eased, and he found that he could function again. As the demon turned her attention back toward Dean, he felt no fear, only a deep sadness that he wouldn't be there for the people he loved.

As the pain began again, he closed his eyes wearily. She was here, he could feel the hair trying to rise on the back of his neck. Feeling hope flood his soul, he pushed away the pain and continued to hold on. Dean opened his eyes and found Sam staring at him. Locking his eyes with Sam, Dean hung on.

Catherine raced down the hallway of the apartment building cursing the traffic jam that had caused her to get here late. Flinging the door in front of her open, without ever touching it, she exploded into the room, throwing a shield of air around the occupants.

Sam watched Catherine burst through the door like an avenging angel, her expression was fierce, and her eyes glowed with anger. He was so focused on his rescuer, that it took a moment for him to realize that he could no longer move at all. He watched Catherine approach the demon and he found himself suddenly glad he was on her side.

Catherine took in the sight before her. Sam was pressed up against a wall, seemingly okay. Another figure was heaped in a corner of the room, Catherine dismissed him as the one the boys had been here to stop. A blonde woman was held immobile, her eyes wild with fear. And Dean, he was lying on the floor, unmoving, his skin almost translucent. Catherine released everyone in the room, but the blonde.

As soon as Sam fell free, he moved to Dean's side. Gathering up his brother, he pulled him to his chest and felt for a pulse. Sam almost panicked when he was unable to find one; it took him a moment to realize he was feeling in the wrong place. Taking a deep breath, Sam forced himself to calm down and once again placed his fingers on Dean's throat. Sam closed his eyes in gratitude to feel his brother's heart beating steadily. "He's alive Catherine," Sam called out.

The sight of Catherine advancing on the demon filled Sam with unease. Cat hadn't acknowledged that she'd even heard Sam's statement. As the two women faced each other, toe to toe Sam heard Cat say, "You thought to take him from me."

Sam watched as the demon woman's feet left the ground slowly, inch by inch. The look of fear on her face was palpable. Catherine leaned in and said, "I'm going to make you pay. The way I figure it my job is two-fold. First I need to make you pay for Dean, and second, I need to set an example to anyone else that feels the need to hurt the people I care about." Sam watched in horror as the woman in front of him, whose feet no longer touched the ground, began to bend backward as if she was a contortionist. Farther and farther she bent, her screams echoing through the small room.

As Bobby burst through the door, book in hand his first reaction was relief. Catherine was obviously in control of the situation. Moving into the apartment though his relief turned to concern, Dean lay in his brother's lap unmoving. Bobby felt a stab of pain move through him at the sight of the elder Winchester's pallid face, it was only as he caught Sam's eye and saw Sam's nod that Bobby relaxed once again. So alive, maybe not well but alive, Bobby turned his attention to Catherine. He watched in shock as the blonde woman in front of Catherine began to bend backwards at an unnatural angle. "Catherine, stop you're going to kill her. You have to stop," Bobby said as he moved around the two women to Sam's side.

Catherine blinked at the sound of Bobby's voice, "I'm planning on killing her, Bobby. I'm sure as hell not going to allow her to leave this apartment alive." Catherine once again focused on the woman before her.

At Catherine's words Sam knew she'd lost control, he gently began easing Dean aside "Bobby, get started." Sam rose to his feet, and moved toward Catherine hands out in a placating gesture. "Cat, listen to me you can't hurt this woman."

Catherine turned in surprise towards Sam; she'd forgotten he was even here. Smiling sadly, Cat reached up and brushed a hand across her nose, she looked down in surprise at the blood that was smeared across it. "Sam, I can't let them hurt you again. No matter how hard I try, they keep hurting you. I'm going to stop it, Sam, I'll keep my promise, and you'll be safe."

Sam moved closer to Catherine, he noticed her nose was bleeding freely and she was sweating as if she had a fever. "Hurry, Bobby," Sam urged, "I think she's going to pass out."

Bobby had already begun the exorcism and at Sam's urging, he began reading faster.

Sam slipped in between Catherine and the possessed woman, drawing a frown from Cat. "Cat, did you hear me. You saved Dean; he's going to be okay. You need to stop hurting this woman, she's innocent Catherine, and you can't kill her."

Catherine was having trouble focusing; she could hear Sam's words but was having trouble making sense out of them. "Sam, I have to protect you." Catherine glanced at the woman that floated above the floor, just behind Sam. Shaking her head, she allowed the girl to sink slowly back to the floor. She was having trouble maintaining control and she was suddenly afraid that she wouldn't be able to hold the demon much longer.

Catherine slowly began moving toward Dean who, lay on the floor. Dropping to her knees next to him, she slowly reached out and touched his cheek. As she did, she saw a flash of familiar green, as his eyes blinked open.

Bobby finished the last line and watched as the demon was expelled from the young woman it had inhabited. Bobby moved next to her, but was not able to touch her. An invisible wall of energy kept his hand from reaching her. "Catherine, let her go."

Catherine never even acknowledged Bobby; her whole being was focused on Dean. Touching his cheek, she called to him softly.

Dean forced his eyes open; as he did, he caught a glimpse of Catherine. His first thought was relief at the sight of her, as he took a moment to study her though he realized that something was wrong. A glance at Sam's concerned face only served to increase Dean's unease. It was then that he realized Sam was speaking urgently to Cat. Dean forced his tired, and pain filled mind to understand the words.

"Catherine, come on let go. It's over, Cat," Sam pleaded with Catherine over and over again. He knew that the physic was maintaining her power, and that it was quickly draining her. He was afraid that if she didn't release it she was going to damage herself or the girl she still held captive.

Dean heard the panic in Sam's voice and realized that Cat was holding her power, and it was quickly draining her. In a raspy voice, Dean said, "Cat I'm tired, I want to go. Can you help me?"

Cat released the power that she held and said, "Of course, Dean, let's get you settled in the car." Moving as if to stand, Catherine instead passed out cold. Dean released a breath as he saw Sam catch her in his arms before she could hit the ground.

"Well, hell," said Bobby. "I'm getting too old for this shit."

Sam snorted and lowered Catherine within reach of Dean, sitting back on his haunches Sam shared a look with Bobby. "Damn,Bobby, I think I'm getting too old for this shit."


	14. Chapter 14

Cat lay on her side, balanced on the very edge of a bed, the slightest movement would send her to the floor. Ever since she was a small child she'd slept this way, it enabled her to roll out of bed in an instant. The exception was when Dean was in bed with her. If he was with her she would have, instead, woken up sprawled across his chest. Huh, she thought, so she was sleeping alone.

Catherine forced her eyes open trying to figure out where she was and why she was so thirsty. Blinking in the dim light, she looked up into Sam's tired face. Catherine pushed herself into a sitting position. "Sammy, why are you here? What's wrong?"

Sam smiled tiredly, "Absolutely nothing, Katie, he's just laying down for a bit. We've been taking turns watching over you."

Catherine glanced around the room, recognizing the one she stayed in while she was at Bobby's house. "How'd we get home? Last thing I remember is New York. The demon, Dean was hurt." Catherine swung her legs over the edge of the bed and pushed herself to her feet, as she did a wave of weakness rolled through her causing her to fall. Luckily, Sam's strong arms caught her before she hit the ground.

"Whoa, easy there, Cat. Dean's fine, you took care of the demon and we've been here at Bobby's for two days now. You've been a bit out of it." Sam carefully eased Cat back down onto the bed. Once he had her settled he headed for her bedroom door, shaking his head at the still splintered door jam, Sam stood in the doorway and called out "Bobby, wake Dean."

Sam returned to the room, and resumed his spot on the chair next to the bed. Wincing slightly, he took in Catherine's bloodshot eyes; the pressure from her telekinesis had actually caused blood vessels in her eyes to burst. Luckily, the nosebleeds had stopped within the first two days.

"Sam, what happened?" Catherine asked.

"What happened was, you saved us, Sam and I. You did it, Catherine, you sent that demon to hell," Dean said as he pushed open the bedroom door.

Cat smiled weakly as Dean moved to take a seat on the edge of the bed. "I remember that, I was kinda looking for an update of the last couple days."

Dean watched as his younger brother rose. "I'm on kitchen duty tonight; I'll call you both when it's time to eat." Dean nodded his appreciation to Sam.

"Sam's, cooking, God I have been out a while," Catherine said with a weak smile.

Dean reclined on the bed pulling Catherine down with him. "Kiddo, you have no idea. It was a long three days." Gathering her into his arms, Dean spoke "I don't remember much myself the first couple of hours. From the way Bobby and Sam tell it, they used that Matt kid's apartment as a base of operations. He had a minor concussion but is going to be fine. Sam's keeping in touch with him, to insure he doesn't go dark side." Dean dropped a light kiss on Catherine's head and felt content for the moment.

"Susan, the possessed girl was bruised up pretty good. She remembered a lot of what had happened to her from the days she'd been possessed. Near as they could figure, it had been about a month. Bobby contacted her family and they came and got her. Not sure, what excuse he gave, but they were just thankful to have her home again. At this point, you were unconscious and I was in and out. Finally, the two of them decided we'd both heal here at Bobby's better than at some motel, so they loaded us up and brought us home. You've been in and out of it for the past two days, we've managed to get some water in you and you were up for a few minutes each day, but this is the first you've been coherent."

Catherine wrapped herself around Dean, her head on his chest listening to the steady beat of his heart. "What do you mean coherent?"

Dean pulled Catherine even closer, gathering his thoughts he said, "You were upset, Katie. Over losing control at that apartment, you seemed worried that Sam and Bobby would think less of you."

Catherine closed her eyes and asked the question that mattered most to her, "Are you? Upset, I mean. I know I lost it and I hurt an innocent person. Maybe, it's not Sam that's destined to go dark side, maybe it's me," Catherine allowed her words to leave in a rush.

"You're talking to the wrong guy, Cat. I shot a guy, an innocent, to save Sammy. As far as I'm concerned you saved him and me, and we owe you everything." Dean raised her chin to look in her eyes and kissed her softly. "You did no more or less than I would have done. And in the end you made the right call, you saved the girl also."

"Yeah, but it was close, Dean, too close. All I could think of was making someone pay for all that had been done to us. I'm worried." Catherine didn't need to say the words, of all people Dean understood the anger that could overtake someone when they were protecting the people they love.

"I know you are, Catherine, and that's why I don't need to worry. You understand the danger of losing control and I have every faith in you that you won't allow it to happen to you again. You're strong, Katie." Dean kissed her deeply, allowing himself to just feel for a moment.

A knock at the door, caused the startled couple to jump apart. At Sam's call to dinner Dean replied, "Hold your horses, Martha Stewart, we'll be right there." Dean and Catherine exchanged grins at Sam's reply of "Jerk".

888

Catherine had sat down at the table not expecting to want to eat. Now, here she was a half-hour later eating her second helpings of everything. Taking a break, and noticing the identical stares from the three men surrounding her Cat asked, "What?"

Sam leaned back in his chair and said, "Nothing I've just never heard of a human garbage disposal. God, Cat, it'll be a miracle if you don't end up puking all that food back up."

"Hey, it's been close to four days since I've had anything more than coffee, I'll eat till I puke if I feel like it," Catherine said, forking another load of mac n cheese into her mouth. Swallowing the food, almost whole Cat asked, "So, I know you've probably already exchanged foot notes on what happened but could someone maybe fill me in?"

Bobby watched slightly sickened as Cat continued shoving food into her mouth. "Actually, Honey, we all agreed to stick with the bare minimum until you were okay. Are you sure you want more?" Bobby asked as Catherine loaded her fork once again.

Dean watched as Cat finally pushed her chair back from the table, accepting the cup of coffee that Bobby, prepared for her. She closed her eyes for a moment, rubbing her forehead. "You okay, Cat?" Dean asked. At his words her eyes popped open and she grinned slightly, nodding her head she sat back and sipped her coffee.

"So, Sam, spill it, what new and interesting bullshit was this demon spreading," Cat asked as she took another sip of her coffee.

888

An hour later Catherine sat mouth open wide, staring in confusion at Sam. "So what, I'm the most powerful of the children and you're the chosen and your Dad was some kind of Guardian."

At Sam's nod, Catherine turned toward Bobby. "Any of this ringing a bell for you, Bobby, I mean as far as demon lore goes you're the expert?"

Bobby stared hard at the cup of coffee he held in his hands, finally he glanced up. It was obvious to everyone at the table that something Sam said had rung a bell with the grizzled hunter. "I'm going to have to do some research but, yeah it does sound familiar. The only thing is, I don't think John was the Guardian. I seem to remember there being several trials, that the guardian had to go through in order to be declared. I'll hit the books see what I can figure out." Bobby stood and was already heading toward his library intent on finding what answers he could.

"Well," drawled Dean as he stood and began clearing the table, "At least I'm in the clear."

Sam frowned. "And it's good thing, that Cat's the strongest. I mean that kind of power in the hands of someone else is a dangerous idea."

Catherine frowned at the memory of losing control "Sam I, I won't use my powers again. I know I lost control and I'm sorry. I thank God; you were able to stop me."

Dean watched in trepidation as Sam took Cat's hand in his. "Cat, you saved Dean, when I couldn't. For that, I don't regret anything you did. Besides," he said with a firm look "You would have stopped on your own, I have no doubt."

Dean watched, as Catherine's face relaxed into a small smile, turning back to the sink Dean breathed a sigh of relief.

Later that evening Catherine found Bobby alone, pouring over a collection of books. Cat stared in amazement at the information that was sprawled around the table and even the chairs of the room. Glancing at several titles, Cat said, "God, Bobby if yellow-eyes knew you had these in your collection you'd be tagged for death." Catherine poured over the books serious stuff, historical accounts, hunter's journals, books written in Latin, Italian and many other languages.

"Honey, I've been tagged for death for the past twenty years. And I'm still kicking" With a wink in her direction Bobby said, "I've got a few surprises for any demon that comes around. Now, why don't you tell me what brought you in here? You've never been one for research."

Cat grinned ruefully as she moved a pile of books from one of the chairs and sat down. "I was just wondering what you found so far?" Cat said picking up a silver letter opener that had been sitting the top of the pile.

Bobby watched the young woman for a moment, studying her face; he picked up the signs of strain that were showing through her nonchalant question. "Why don't you cut the crap, Katie, and tell me what's really on your mind?"

Cat gave Bobby a ghost of a smile; she should have known that Bobby would get right to the point instead of allowing Cat to tiptoe around it. "I'm worried about what I did back in New York."

Bobby nodded, "I would have been shocked if you weren't. I gotta admit I was a bit worried myself. That power of yours was steadily draining the life out of you. I'm worried what would happen if you did face something as powerful as the yellow- eyed son of a bitch."

Catherine's head came up, her eyes focused on Bobby shaking her head in confusion she said, "No, that's not what I mean. I hurt that poor woman, hell; I almost killed her, Bobby, what if I can't control it."

"Can't control it, that's a load of horseshit. Of course, you can control it, you stopped didn't you. I've known you for a long time now Catherine and I've never once doubted you," Bobby said firmly gazing steadily at the younger hunter.

Catherine dropped her gaze, "But with Sam and Dean, even you, Bobby. It's different, I finally have a family again, and I find I'm not able to willingly give you guys up. If Dean had been dead or Sam I don't think that woman would have left that apartment in anything other than a body bag."

Bobby moved to stand in front of Catherine, dropping down on one knee he stared intently at her. "I'm not worried, I know that in the end you'll do what's best, Catherine. You've spent half of your life taking care of strangers regardless of the cost; I just don't see you doing anything different in the future."

Catherine nodded and said, "That's pretty much what Sam and Dean said."

"Well, then it must be true." With a wink, Bobby turned back to the books he was studying. "Now get your ass gone so I can concentrate."

888

Two days later found the four hunters gathered once again around Bobby's kitchen table. Beer in hand Bobby sat back studying the kids that surrounded him. Well, he thought, they probably couldn't be called kids anymore. Hell, with all they'd seen and done, it had been a lifetime since they could have been called kids.

Bobby took a swig of his bear, drew a breath, and began, "From the information Sam gave me I found a couple relevant books on this mess. Both referenced wars that would change the future of the planet. Now, I never associated these books with the yellow-eyed demon simply because it never occurred to me. The words First, Guardian and Chosen though those I recognized. Three times in history, there was an occurrence so great that it changed altered history, after each occurrence human kind suffered unconscionable losses. Apparently, people were manipulated and even possibly possessed to bring about these catastrophes. Basically they were situations created by demon manipulation. There have been other times in history when these plans have been stopped by a group of select humans. Psychics, and others bound by fate to rise up against the demon."

"Psychics and Hunters you mean, Bobby," Dean asked.

"Yeah and others. People like Ellen and Ash, people who don't hunt but help to shape history nonetheless. Now knowing what the books are relevant, I've been over them a hundred times. They're useless as far as what the demon has planned because it's been different over the centuries, however, they did provide information on how in the past, humans have triumphed over evil." Bobby paused taking another swig of his beer and suddenly wishing it was something stronger.

"Every time the demon begins building its army, the fates bring about the birth of three special warriors to battle for the good side. Sometimes these three have succeeded and sometimes they've failed. It all depends upon the individuals, but all three seem to be necessary in order to win. The First is always the strongest of the psychics, the type of power doesn't seem to make a difference. The First just needs to be unmatched in power. The Chosen refers to the one that in the final battle must face the demon. And the Guardian is the one that will gather the three together and lead the human's against the demon army."

"Holy Shit, Bobby, if the demon knows this and knows who each of us are how can we stand a chance?" Sam asked.

"Well, the good news is the demon can only guess as to who's who. Also, the three are given certain gifts to help insure a victory," Bobby said again glancing at his beer.

"But, Bobby, we've already lost then. If John was meant to be the Guardian and he's gone, we've already lost," Catherine said reaching out to take Sam and Dean's hands in her own.

Bobby rubbed a hand across his jaw and sighed, this is the part he'd been dreading. "The demons are wrong; the Guardian out of necessity has always been well hidden. In the past, it's almost always been a hunter, but doesn't have to be. The markers that reveal the Guardian are these, first, he must be raised as a warrior. Second, he must live a life of self-sacrifice and honor. Third he has to have died and yet still lives," Bobby finished.

Catherine and Sam exchanged a terrified glance. Both turned their eyes toward Dean.

Dean leaned back with a frown. "So how are we going to find this Guardian? I mean if he's going to be the one that saves Cat and Sam, we gotta find him."

Bobby snorted and turned an exasperated look towards Sam. Sam drew a breath and said, "We already know where he is."

"Come on, Sam, you're telling me you've guessed who it is from a couple cryptic clues." Dean laughed.

Sam gathered his patience and said, "It's you, Dean, you're the Guardian. You'll be the one leading Cat, me and the other psychics into battle."

Dean stood up and walked to the counter turning he leaned against it and said, "Cut the crap, Sammy. I'm no warrior, and yeah so I died a couple of times, that doesn't mean anything I'm sure other people have died before. I mean you know me, Sam, honor's not exactly my middle name."

Bobby rolled his eyes and said, "Dean, use the brain God gave you for minute. You were trained by your father to be a warrior, and except for maybe Sam, here you are the best. You died two times and both times, you were brought back by supernatural measures. And as for the honor and self-sacrifice if we looked up either word in the dictionary we'd see your grinning mug staring up at us."

Dean's jaw hardened and he frowned. "No, you've got it wrong, Bobby; I'm not some trumped up leader. Christ, I've barely been able to keep Sam safe, I've got no special powers, and in the demon's grip I'm all but useless." Shaking his head, Dean said, "No, nope, you're looking at the wrong guy." With these words, Dean slammed out of the kitchen. Moments later, they heard the front door slam shut.

Catherine and Sam exchanged tired glances once again. Catherine finally shrugged and said, "This ones all yours, Sam."

Sam nodded and stood following his brother out into the night, he tried to gather his thoughts. Finally, he gave up. He didn't know what to say this time. He only hoped he'd figure it out before he reached Dean.

Sam stood on the porch and breathed the night air deeply; he'd known that Dean hadn't left the property because they hadn't heard the Impala engine. That left Sam only one other idea of where he might be. Rounding the house and heading towards the rusted out hulk of the classic Cadillac, Sam could see his brother seated behind the big machine's wheel.

Normally, Sam steered clear of the car. He knew that it was someplace special to Cat and Dean. While at Bobby's whether they stayed a week or a night, Sam was always careful to give the couple some space. They lived in such close quarters normally, that all three of them were happy to go there own way, when able.

Sam moved alongside the car and hopped over the passenger side door. Sliding into the seat, he sighed and rested his head back against the seat. "So you just being stubborn or do you really not get why you're the Guardian."

"Come on, Sam, I mean me the leader in some epic battle. I barely graduated; I've spent my life taking orders from Dad. It's stupid, Sam," Dean said hands gripping the wheel.

"Dean, I know who you are better than anyone alive. Hell, I knew you better than Dad ever did. So listen, up big brother. You are the one, I have no doubt, you're everything Bobby said and so much more. You've sacrificed everything you've ever wanted or needed for me, for Dad, for our family. Hell, you've spent your life saving people you don't even know. For what? For a thank you. Please, most of the time people don't even know what you've saved them from. And let's face it, you've got dying down pat. I mean it seems to me you'd be hard put to deny it." Sam opened one eye and glanced at his brother.

Here in the darkness, his features lit only by moonlight, Dean looked younger than his years. Sam could remember so many times in his life, when the sight of his older brother was the only thing that could make him feel safe.

"What if I said I didn't want it, Sam, what if that's what the problem was. What would you say then?" Dean kept his eyes closed unable to look Sam in the face.

Sam snorted and clapped a hand on Dean's shoulder, "I'd say join the club, Dean, I never wanted this life and now it seems as if I can never escape it."

"What are you saying its fate, Sam, because I don't believe in fate. It's just something people tell themselves to make them feel better about a crappy situation," Dean said, as he opened his eyes to stare at the cloudless skies above.

"Nah, not fate. More like a sense of responsibility. We may or may not have to skills necessary to destroy the demon, but either way neither of us were built to just walk away. For better or worse we'll see this through to the end because we'd never allow ourselves to do less." Sam relaxed his head against the seat once more.

"Well, boys if it makes you feel any better I'm not about to walk away." Catherine stood next to the driver's side door, bathed in the glow of moonlight.

Dean held out a hand to Cat and helped her scramble onto the wide bench seat. Cat snuggled down between the brother's content to just be near them. Finally, she said, "So, I guess our next step is to begin rounding up the other psychics."

Sam nodded in the darkness "Yeah, we'll get to them before the demon can"

Dean snorted. "Great just great, we'll simply tell them that we're going to lead them into battle against the forces of evil. I'm sure they'll be jumping on the bandwagon."

Cat settled back, her knees pressed against Sam and her head on Dean's shoulders. Drawing the first deep breath in what seemed like years, she said, "Whatever happens at least we'll be together."

The End


End file.
